In Treatment
by southway
Summary: Hours of therapy doesn't change the fact that the only way Rachel can conceive of getting out of her relationship is faking her death and moving to New York.  That or having Noah's baby.  Neither option is that great of an idea.
1. Immediately Following Regionals

**Author's Note:** After watching the Christmas episode, I was struck by the stray thought that Rachel's therapist must be really, really horrible. This story is a result of that thought and the fact that I've pretty much always hated Finchel.

**Warning: **As this is basically a rewrite starting at the end of Season 1 and carrying into Season 2, every aired episode of Glee is fair game. Also, there will probably be a fair amount of bad language and sexual situations. Finally, there will be a fair amount of _brutal honesty_ regarding most of the primary characters. Don't like – don't read; it's pretty simple. All mistakes are mine; I did well in English but it wasn't my major.

**In Treatment**

_**Prologue: Immediately Following Regionals**_

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_Life is not what it's supposed to be. It's what it is. The way you cope with it is what makes the difference._

_**Virginia Satir**_

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They lose at Regionals.

It was inevitable. The fact of the matter is Vocal Adrenaline had two things New Directions didn't: Jesse St. James and Shelby Corcoran. Even though the V.A. performance is essentially the _Jesse St. James' Show_, and shouldn't show choir be about a strong ensemble, they are still polished to a high sheen and that produces higher scores than a rag-tag group of misfits.

Even if one of those misfits is poised to be the next Barbara Streisand.

She knew, deep down, that the speech she gave to Shelby was just her grasping at straws. Even if New Directions _should_ have won, they weren't going to. The best they could have, _should _have, done was beat Aural Intensity. But, if she could have just gotten Shelby on board, then she wouldn't have lost everything. She'd still have a mother, albeit in a professional capacity, and a co-director of glee club that was qualified to push them to victory. Rachel really does like Mr. Shuester, but, sometimes, she wants to grab onto his collar and shake the idealism right out of him.

Even she stopped believing in the power of kittens and rainbows and unicorns that puke sunshine.

Of course, her speech doesn't work. She wonders if Shelby even processes her team's crushing victory before running to the hospital to snatch up Noah and Quinn's baby. Rachel doubts it; in the end, everyone gets what they want, except her.

And Noah.

Rachel's pretty sure that, years from now, when she's writing her memoir, she'll describe the glee club's loss at Regionals as a deep dark pit. In beautiful prose, she'll describe that crawling out of that pit and getting on with her life gave her the strength to deal with all the _inevitable _disappointments _early_ _on_ in her career. Rachel's also pretty sure that her adoring fans won't figure out she's feeding them complete and utter bullshit.

They lost and she all she wants to do is vomit. She wonders when she'll trust a guy enough to let him stick his penis down her throat so that this whole _lacking a gag reflex thing_ can become a blessing. Because, right now, it's stopping her from doing the one thing in the world that would make her feel better.

To top it off, Finn told her that he loved_ her_ and all she can think about is the smirk on Jesse's face as he hoisted _her_ _trophy_ in the air. She knows that some of her nausea is fueled by the soul crushing disappointment of losing Regionals and Shelby and, most likely, the glee club and some is fueled by her complete and utter inability to tell Finn she loves him back.

She's not even sure she _wants_ to tell him and that just makes her nausea worse.

Her dads schedule her for an emergency appointment with her therapist; she wonders how rich Dr. Steiner has become as a result of the various _emergencies_ over the last four years, and for the first time in her life Rachel is at a loss for words. She has a lot of things she _should_ be obsessing over. But there's only one topic she manages to separate from the rest and blurt out to the woman seated a few feet from her.

"Finn told me he loves me and I find myself unable to return the sentiment."

She'd give herself points for coherency, but, the words that follow are a jumbled mess.

Rachel knows she should love Finn. After all, he's her knight in shiny armor, the Tony to her Maria. Even better, he's the Jay Z to her Beyoncé; together they'll be _the_ glee power couple. Failing that, he at least has enough power to protect her from slushy facials and pornographic pictures in the girls' bathroom. Also, she's pretty much single handedly responsible for ruining his life (well, her _and_ Mr. Schuester), so, maybe he should get something in return for all her meddling.

He's sweet, he's gentle, and, while simple, he's pretty much everything a first love should be.

Deep, deep down inside Rachel knows that these are all really stupid reasons for loving someone. That small, still voice deep down, the one that's managed to not be beaten into submission by musicals and Disney movies, hopes that Dr. Steiner tells her so. Instead, Dr. Steiner opens her mouth and makes Rachel wonder just how much her dads have been shelling out for therapy.

"Rachel, do you think that your inability to say 'I love you' has something to do with the fact that you've never had a healthy, heterosexual relationship modeled for you?"

Like magic, for the first time in twenty four hours, Rachel is able to stop thinking about everything. When she picks up the five hundred dollar crystal vase next to her chair, she's not thinking about Jesse or Fin or Shelby or the fact that when she goes back to school she's not going to have a glee club to go back to. Instead, all she can think about is the pros and cons of smashing Dr. Steiner's favorite vase on top of her meticulously styled salt and pepper hair.

She throws it against the wall instead.

She is, after all, too pretty for incarceration and the sensationalism would make for a better Lifetime movie than an auspicious start to a Broadway career. Her dads pay the doctor for the vase and decide to seek out a doctor in Columbus; one who isn't writing a book about the children of homosexual parents.

It takes two weeks to find a doctor who isn't too busy to work his schedule around _her _schedule and who doesn't have professional ties to Dr. Steiner.

Rachel never does get around to telling Finn she loves him.


	2. Scheduling as a Diversionary Tactic

**Author's Note: **The prologue was purposefully short, mostly due to the fact that I couldn't think of where to go after the last sentence. So, while this story will initially contain Finchel, it's most assuredly Puckleberry (which is the direction I wish Season 2 would take). The same warnings apply and if you think I'm claiming ownership to Glee, you're insane.

**In Treatment**

_**Chapter 1: Scheduling as a Diversionary Tactic**_

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_If our condition were truly happy, we would not seek diversion from it in order to make ourselves happy._

_**Blaise Pascal**_

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It takes a couple of weeks for Rachel to warm up to Dr. Robinson. For one thing, he's a man and she's always had a problem with falling for men when they pay the least bit of attention to her. He also has no problem with calling her on her bullshit; this happens pretty often. Eventually their Friday morning meetings become just another part of her busy summer routine (she drives straight from Dr. Robinson's office to her ballet class) and she realizes that she's grown up enough to realize when someone's being considerate (or, in the doctor's case, just doing their job) and when they want to date her.

It's pretty easy to make a small mental leap and realize that's why she fell for Finn…and Mr. Shue…and Noah…and Jesse. All they had to do was give her their (somewhat) undivided attention for more than thirty seconds.

Dr. Robinson promises her it's something they'll work on.

It still makes her feel pretty awful about herself. Also grateful that none of the girls have really gone out of their way to make her feel like a person worthy of consideration; the last thing she needs to do is find out is that she's opportunistically bisexual.

When Dr. Robinson doesn't laugh at this revelation, Rachel realizes just how much different he is from Dr. Steiner. He interrupts her monologues, makes her explain herself, and occasionally has her reword her sentences. He's fond of saying things like, _"Why ten words when four or five would do?"_ He also never, ever, ever makes her feel stupid or foolish or crazy.

Despite all of this, he knows how to play hardball.

"Do you realize, Rachel, that you've scheduled your summer in such a way that you've minimized time with your boyfriend?" He's looking at her over his glasses, a twinkle in his eye and a twitch of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, and Rachel wonders why they're delving into _that_ topic today. So far, the good doctor has been kind enough to make a comment and back off. But, it's been a month and she's run out of justifications for her behavior.

"Do you realize, Dr. Robinson, that you have a terrible poker face?"

She can't help it. She's kind of hoping that if she puts off talking about Finn long enough, eventually the guilt feelings will go away and she'll be able to start acting like a real girlfriend. Lately, her life has felt like a poorly written romance novel and she's suspicious that she might be developing a Finn-induced ulcer.

Mostly, though, Rachel's just tired. Physically, she's been running herself ragged trying to _make the most of her summer break_. She doesn't lounge by the pool, she's lost weight, and she's lucky if she gets a full eight hours of sleep. Finn's right; she does live in a bizarre, upside down world. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday are dance: Monday is an all day marathon of tap and jazz. She teaches the 6, 7, and 8 year old ballet classes on Wednesday (which is its own workout). On Friday, there's her own ballet class after her session with Dr. Robinson which is followed by temple. Tuesday and Thursday mornings she has vocal training and Tuesday afternoon she drives to Columbus for an acting class.

Then there's the fact that she avoids her boyfriend as much as possible in order to keep any cringe worthy _I love you_ moments to a minimum. The fact that she, _Rachel Barbara Berry_, has a problem expressing her emotions probably means that circles six through eight have frozen over and three through five are getting a little nippy.

Basically, she ensures that all she has the energy to do with Finn is curl up on the couch in the upstairs living room and watch TV until she falls asleep. Since she lets him pick, this usually happens about five minutes into SportsCenter and ten minutes into a college football game.

Despite the fact that they've been together since the Monday after Regionals, Rachel has yet to be on a proper date with Finn. While she doesn't mind, she knows he's getting annoyed. Still, when Rabbi Greenburg decides to start a support group for the Jewish teens at temple, _there are five_; she jumps at the chance because it means missing an hour of _Hudmel _time on Sundays.

In a perfect world, she'd break up with Finn. In a perfect world, she wouldn't have to worry about bitchy Cheerios , slushy facials, and the glee club turning _even more _against her for breaking their golden boy's heart.

To be fair, it's not like Finn isn't using her to prop up his own self-esteem issues. Or that she, _secretly_, hopes he'll break up with her because she's suddenly become less emotionally accommodating than _Quinn_. When she tells Dr. Robinson this, he just asks her what she thinks is the best way to handle the situation (which is quickly becoming too much for her to handle).

Rachel figures they'll be making progress the day she stop saying, _"By faking my death and moving to New York."_

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_One Thursday night in the middle of July, Finn manages to convince Rachel to let him come over. She has no excuse other than the fact that she's already ready for bed, _it's eight thirty at night_, and she has no intention of sharing that information. No need to encourage the poor boy. So, she throws a light sweater over her tank top, switches out her sleep shorts for a pair of pajama bottoms, and brushes her hair out of its messy braid.

It isn't until she opens the door to Noah, _not_ Finn, that she realizes there's nothing between her nipples and the world except some stretchy cotton and a shelf bra.

"Sup, Berry?"

There's a lot of things she could say, even more than she should say (especially in regards to Finn), but, Rachel can't make herself say any of them. Conversation isn't typically a priority when she's face to face with Noah Puckerman. Honestly, she avoids being alone in the same room with him because she's usually possessed with the overwhelming urge to lick his neck.

It isn't until she notices the shopping bags in his hands that she's able to form a coherent sentence.

"Noah, may I ask what you're doing here?"

"Are you going to invite me in, Berry?" He doesn't say anything else just flexes a little and smirks. Rachel thinks about the 'Run Joey Run' debacle and how different her life might be now if she'd just made out with him. She also wonders if she has a problem with wanting what she can't have.

There's honestly no good reason why she should invite him in. On the other hand, there's no good reason why she shouldn't. Well, other than the fact that her fingers are itching to play with his nipple ring.

It's official, she's a whore.

"_Fine_," she backs away from the door like he's contaminated and flounces towards the kitchen like she's wearing something more substantial than pajamas, "would you like something to drink? Eat?"

"Beer?" he smirks again and she can't help but stare at his lips, "Finn's on his way, right? Douche thinks he can blow off _Call of Duty night_. That shit ain't kosher, Berry."

She grabs a can of Coke out of the fridge for him and a can of Coke Zero for herself. By the time she's turned around, Noah's in the living room messing with a bundle of wires. It's obvious now that he's decided to bring _Call of Duty night _to the Berry residence. Rachel's grateful that her fathers are out of town for a medical conference. There's no need for them to be privy to this clusterfuck.

If she were a good girlfriend, one who wanted to spend time with her boyfriend and wasn't lusting after his best friend, she'd explain that Finn rarely got to see her and the rare night with his girlfriend was more important than time with the best friend who he saw _all the time_.

Rachel's convinced she can sleep in the recliner while Finn and Noah decimate the Nazi menace, so, she sets his Coke can on a coaster and grabs an afghan. She knows she should fight this _invasion_ but she's honestly exhausted and doesn't want to spend the next two hours telling Finn he can't touch her boobs.

"You know, Berry, if you're going to break our boy, you should probably do it before school starts. Maybe that way we won't have to sit through a whole semester of broken hearted pussy songs originally sung by pussy emo rejects."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Noah. I have no intention of breaking anyone. Oh and your language is atrocious." Something she learned from the boy sitting on her coffee table, the best lies are partially true. Rachel has no intention of breaking Finn's heart; she's hoping he'll have left her long before that's necessary.

Noah's smirk transforms into a full blown grin and he's got her fixed with the patent _Puckerman stare_.

"Really, Berry? _Really_? Remember, you're talking to the master of bullshit."

She's _thisclose_ to breaking down and Noah looks like he's about two seconds from opening his mouth and saying something particularly insightful when the door opens and Finn's voice echoes from the hallway.

"Rachel…_Rachel_…why's Puck's truck in your driveway?"

She'd be more offended by the worried tone in his voice if she wasn't actively thinking adulterous thoughts about the owner of said truck.

"Because I'm in her living room, dumbass. You didn't really think I'd let you skip out on killing Nazis, did you?"

The expression on Finn's face is balanced somewhere between someone just ran over his puppy and confusion. Because she has no intention of getting involved, Rachel gets up from the recliner to retrieve another Coke from the kitchen. She passes off the can to Finn, along with a kiss on the check, and curls back up on the recliner. Since he can't say no to Noah anymore than she can, he's already on the coach with a controller in his hand before she gets back.

If Noah Puckerman was opportunistically bisexual, they'd probably all be in bed right now. It's not as scary of a thought as it _should_ be.

Rachel's pretty sure that the best words to describe this situation are _fucked_ and _up_. Since it means a couple more hours of sleep, she's also pretty sure that she's okay with that. What she doesn't appreciate is Finn spending the next three weeks trying to make the interruption up to her. After almost three months of dating, he still hasn't figured out she'd rather eat at the small diner in Elida than go to Breadsticks.

She tells Dr. Robinson that her biggest miscalculation in the whole mess was forgetting that Finn Hudson is used to feeding the ego of an ice queen. Faking her death is still on the table as her only viable option. That or getting pregnant with Noah Puckerman's baby; if she's going to follow in Quinn's footsteps she might as well go all out.

If she's going to fuck her life up, she might as well do it in a spectacular fashion.


	3. Like the Walls of Jericho

**Author's Note:** It should probably be noted that I hate Finchel, not Finn. To be completely honest, I think the only girl who should be subjected to a relationship with Finn is Santana and only because she wouldn't put up with his shit. All of the gleeks, including Mr. Shue, are flawed (some more than others) but Finn's the only one who routinely gets away with being an ass (Burt's about the only one who calls him on it).

This is fic is for anyone who's ever wished Rachel would take off the blinders and realize Finn isn't as perfect as she thinks he is. I'm still holding out hope she gets her act together this season, but, I know it's a lost cause.

**In Treatment**

_**Chapter 2: Like the Walls of Jericho**_

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_We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful what we pretend to be._

_**Kurt Vonnegut**_

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The one thing Rachel wants more than a successful career on Broadway is to be liked by her peers. Honestly, after almost seventeen years in Lima, she's given up on being popular and is prepared to trade in mild disdain for neutral disinterest. They don't even have to _like _her, just stop being so damn mean. Her desire to conquer New York has less to do with not becoming the next _Lima Loser _and more to do with leaving the people who have never really tolerated her. It's becoming harder and harder to hide behind big show smiles, hideous animal sweaters, and pitch perfect solos.

She knows it was wrong to chase after Finn and she's convinced her current predicament is just her reaping what she's sown. At the time, though, she couldn't help herself. He was the perfectly packaged solution for all of her problems. Being the girlfriend of the most popular guy at William McKinley would have at least forced people to be nice to her face. For the first time since junior high, she'd be able to walk through the halls without constantly looking over her shoulder.

Of course, like any Rachel Berry plan, things don't work out like they're supposed to.

The first kink in her plan is the fact that Finn isn't nearly as wonderful in reality as in her imagination. While he might have initially been put off by her near stalkerish behavior, he eventually eats it up. It's not surprising when his own girlfriend treats him more like a possession than a person. He's more interested in holding onto his social status; _she doesn't blame him_, then risking it all for a girl who might let him have the upper hand for a change. She's so ridiculously devoted to her plan, not to mention naïve, that she lets him walk all over her for the chance of improving her lot in life.

All of it adds up to Quinn Fabray actively working to make her life a living hell. This is, of course, the second problem with her plan. It only makes her social stock fall further, making her even less desirable to Finn, and does nothing to endear her to the glee club who suck up to Quinn like it's an Olympic sport.

Her biggest hurdle, however, is her personality. She's, in turns, loud, selfish, ambitious, and manipulative. She's also incredibly lonely and way too trustworthy for her own good. The very things she does to _win friends and influence people_ only serve to drive people way.

The only person who's ever accepted her unconditionally is Noah Puckerman and he's got his own issues to deal with. Daddy issues on top of Quinn issues on top of Beth issues; he may need Dr. Robinson more than she does.

At temple, the Friday before freshman year, he begs her to not be embarrassing. _'If you just chill the fuck out, Rach, I should be popular enough this year to keep you out of trouble.'_ She might have managed if her daddy hadn't forced her to wear her Nana's present on her first day of high school. Rachel knows it's all over when she hears the Cheerios whispering about her cardigan-pleated skirt-knee socks combo. By third period, Noah's striding towards her with a slushy in hand and she knows there's no coming back from this.

It takes her weeks to realize that the _locker_ that _accidentally _broke Jacob's nose was really Noah's fist retaliating against the pervert's attempted peek into the girls' restroom while she was drying off. Noah's personal mission to make her life miserable ensures that she escapes the worst of the bullying from the jocks. Obviously he can't do anything about the Cheerios…except maybe fuck them to distraction. And that only works for a little bit.

That Rachel thought Finn would make a more effective protector than Noah just goes to show how self-deluded she can be sometimes. Finn doesn't have Noah's strength of conviction, something that is illustrated time and time again. In all other things that matter, he definitely doesn't make a better boyfriend. Most of all, he only really knows how to love someone when they won't give him the time of day.

She considers Noah's advice for all of a minute, that she break up with Finn before school starts, and quickly disregards it. She had to put up with him all summer, the least she can do is enjoy the benefits of being the star quarterback's girlfriend.

The party at Santana's, which she's currently getting ready for, is one of those _benefits_. It's the second to last Friday before school starts and she begged out of temple, not too hard because her fathers are always relieved when she acts like a normal teenager. She doesn't really want to go but, according to Kurt, as Finn's girlfriend, it's pretty much mandatory.

He's right but that doesn't mean that Rachel has to be happy about it.

When the doorbell rings she takes her time answering it and is surprised to find Noah in her doorway with Finn awkwardly standing behind him. "Sup, Berry?" His eyes rake over her body, taking in the layered tanks (purple over black), dark wash skinny jeans, and dark grey ballet flats that make up her ensemble. He smirks his approval and she sighs in relief when he doesn't say anything about her noticeable décolletage.

It isn't until she locks the door behind her and heads towards Noah's truck, _Finn's idea_, that her boyfriend decides to speak up. For the hundredth time, Rachel wishes he wouldn't.

"Wow, babe, you look normal…I mean good…not that _your normal_ isn't _good_ but…you know…"

If she were really in love with him, the backhanded compliments would probably do a number on her self esteem. As it is, Rachel wonders, if she's so embarrassing, why he bothers staying with her in the first place. She knows how to dress herself, but, doesn't see the point in bothering when all she receives is negative attention anyway. Dr. Robinson thinks she should tell Finn this, but, she doesn't see the point; he's not going to understand what she's saying anyway.

Finn's still mumbling when she pulls herself from her thoughts and notices that Noah's looking at them like he doesn't know why he puts up with their shit. Rachel doesn't know either but still slides up into the middle seat and pats Finn's knee reassuringly when he finally ambles up into the passenger seat.

Honestly, she has no intention of drinking at Santana's but after Finn's _fifth_ apology her resolve crumbles and she's ready to test how well Noah's smuggled _Sailor Jerry_ mixes with Coke Zero.

Neither drinking nor running into Quinn are part of the plan, but both happen anyway.

Rachel pretends that the party is just a dress rehearsal for all the Broadway-related parties she'll attend one day in New York. That by modulating her voice (_why do you have to be so loud, babe_) and smiling enough but not too much and generally being pleasant to the people who she alternatively hates and envies, she's preparing to impress future directors, managers, and investors. By the time they've done their rounds, Finn's on his second beer and she's halfway done with her rum and Coke. She manages to wiggle out from her boyfriend's arm around her waist and join her fellow gleeks gathered in the corner of the living room.

"Channeling Selena Gomez this evening, Diva?" Kurt may be smiling, the upside of Hudmel time is that they kind of like each other now, but Mercedes isn't and Rachel wonders if she should just excuse herself and go find Finn when Tina grabs her hand and pulls her down on the couch.

"You look _cute_, Rachel. Doesn't she look cute, Mike?" He looks away from the TV long enough to nod and Tina just rolls her eyes. "I know you were really busy this summer, but, maybe once school starts we can double date or something."

Mercedes mumbles something that sounds awful like '_Desperate much_' and '_She's not popular yet_' but Rachel just ignores her. She has no illusions that they are suddenly going to become BFFs and she's not quite comfortable with the sudden display of friendship, but, it's better than having no friends at all.

"That would be nice, Tina. Maybe we can plan something for next week."

They all look at her like she's grown another head and it dawns on her that she didn't use the opportunity to launch into a monologue detailing her busy summer. Maybe she's been making progress with Dr. Robinson and just not noticing it – the thought makes her feel warmer than the shot of rum mixed in her plastic cup.

It doesn't take long before they're all talking about glee: the songs they want to do, the solos they want to perform, and how to convince Mr. Shue to stop saddling them with Journey tributes. Rachel bites her tongue when Mercedes talks about wanting to do a solo from _Aida_. By the time they start talking about Matt's abrupt transfer, she's ready for her second rum and Coke. On her way to the kitchen, however, she notices Finn doing a keg stand in the backyard and decides on a glass of water instead.

A cursory glance does not reveal Noah's location and she figures he's probably upstairs with some freshman Cheerio wannabe, distracting himself from the fact that he's playing designated driver. Quinn grabs her arm and drags her into the dining room while she's convincing herself she doesn't want to be that imaginary freshman.

"What do you think you're doing?"

'_Trying to convince myself I don't want Noah_' doesn't seem like the best response, so Rachel takes a drink of water instead. The blond doesn't look impressed and Rachel figures there's only a twenty five percent chance she can make a successful break from the current interrogation. She decides to start talking before Quinn decides to start water boarding.

"You know what's weird, Quinn? Your _daughter_ is kind of my _sister_, which is _really weird_ because you _hate_ me. But, when you think about it that way, it's not that weird because by giving your daughter to my mother, you've pretty much ensured that Shelby has absolutely no need for me." She takes another drink of water and thinks about her star glass before continuing. "What's _funny_ is that you were just trying to give your baby a good life...you weren't even trying to hurt me."

Rachel knows this isn't the best time to bring up her thoughts about Beth and Shelby and the adoption but it's better than talking about the weird situation that's developed around her and Finn and Noah ever since _Call of Duty night_ morphed into some confused friendship threesome that probably isn't healthy for any of the people involved.

"You can't have them both, you know. Believe me, I've already tried." She laughs, raw and ugly, and Rachel notices that Quinn looks about as tired as she feels. It's probably hard to get back on your feet after losing your Cheerio position, your dad, and your baby. At least, in the midst of all that losing, Quinn's lost her baby weight. All she needs is a ponytail and a Cheerio's uniform and it'll be like last year never happened.

Almost.

"I don't want them both, Quinn. Greed isn't one of my sins." Pride and lust, yeah, she's got those covered. No, she just wants one boy; the one she shouldn't have broken up with after less than a week just because she had a dream of a fairytale romance. "You know, I get it now. Well, I think I get it now."

Quinn's eyebrow quirks; probably a result of all that time she spent with Noah last semester.

"You should have just let me have him for a week and I would have been begging you to take him back."

"Right," Quinn turns on her heel and Rachel's knows that this is the closest they'll come to apologizing to each other. Pride isn't just _her_ sin. "If you think he'll stay faithful, you're delusional. Remember, you're not enough for anyone to want to stay around to pick up the pieces."

If there's a '_be careful'_ hidden in the former HBIC's words, it's deeply buried under the blatant threat. Just because Quinn doesn't want her sloppy seconds doesn't mean someone else won't. She isn't even aware she's crying until Noah appears out of nowhere to grab her arm and steer her into an empty guest bedroom. His expression is a mash up of pissed off and worried, it only makes her cry harder.

"Fabray's a bitch, Berry. That's not going to change just because she popped out my kid. Hudson would have to be an idiot to leave you." It's not so much the leaving her that's upsetting, it's the fact that he would most likely do it in a very public forum and embarrass her more than a barrage of slushy facials could accomplish. "Then again, he can't be too smart considering he's out _there_ and I'm in _here_."

She doesn't say anything, just stares at the gold flecks in his hazel eyes, and realizes that Quinn's warning could just as easily fit Noah as it does Finn. _That_ bothers her more than the thought of Finn breaking up with her between third and fourth period.

After an eternity, _two minutes_, of staring at Noah's eyes and lips and biceps, Rachel downs the rest of her water and tucks back a stray piece of hair that's escaped from her French braid.

"We should probably go make sure Finn doesn't choke in a puddle of his own vomit and die."

There really isn't a whole lot let to say after that.


	4. The Allure of Truly Horrible Ideas

**Author's Note: **I just want to say that you guys are absolutely amazing. The amount of love for this silly little story of mine is overwhelming. The inbox full of various alerts definitely prompted me to post a new chapter, even after a craptastic day at work. Love you all!

The next several chapters will essentially be rewrites of Season 2. I hope I won't get too much flack for some of the changes but there have been some definite WTF moments this season for me, especially regarding Rachel. I'm mostly working from the premise that she's been in therapy with a _good_ therapist over the summer and she'd understandably make different life choices based on this fact.

**In Treatment**

_**Chapter 3: The Allure of Truly Horrible Ideas**_

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_If you care about something you have to protect it. If you're lucky enough to find a way of life you love, you have to find the courage to live it._

_**John Irving**_

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The first day of junior year starts on a positive note. The jocks see Rachel on Finn's arm and realize that, so long as Finn Hudson is playing in the _Berry patch_, there's one less victim walking the halls at WMHS. Well, maybe they don't realize it at first but when Noah corners Karofsky in the locker room and threatens to _kill his ass_ if he so much as looks at Rachel the wrong way, the message quickly gets passed along.

Kurt witnesses the whole thing and Rachel's almost late to second period when he pulls her into the girls' bathroom to relay the _very important_ information. When she confronts Noah about it, he simply shrugs; his explanation has something to do with brochachos and hot Jews and honestly gives her a headache.

The Cheerios can't be swayed by violence, being led by Coach Sylvester ensures that nothing scares them but _her_, but Rachel catches Tina and Kurt removing the latest batch of poorly drawn pornography from the bathroom (she also catches Mercedes following behind to rescue the pictures from the trash and hang them up again). It weird knowing that there's a least three people at school who care about her and even weirder knowing that she doesn't consider Finn one of those three people.

He may be her boyfriend, but, he's _never _been much of a friend.

To quote Noah, Jewfro is annoying as fuck. Rachel wonders if he's retaliating against being barred from Jew group once Rabbi Greenburg learned that his perverted obsession with all things Rachel Berry was more than just a creepy little crush. Considering her rabbi encouraged her to file a restraining order, and gave the Ben-Israels' the number of a good therapist, she doesn't feel bad for expressing her discomfort over having his ridiculous video camera shoved in her face. The situation goes _way beyond_ preparing for future paparazzi.

She's trying so hard to ignore the annoying whine of Jacob's voice as he asks questions about the _Summer of Finchel_ that she almost misses it when Finn calls her a 'controlist.' Rachel's so surprised that all she can force herself to say is, "Controlist isn't a word, Finn. I think the word you're looking for is _controlling_." Noah must really be rubbing off on her because the next sentence is not something she would have e_ver_ considered saying aloud last year. "I didn't realize that by not letting you round second base I was being _controlling_. I guess that's something Dr. Robinson and I will _have to work on_."

Rachel really wants to slap him or spit in his face or _something_ but she grits her teeth and storms off instead. Her exchange with Finn becomes the second most popular clip on Jacob's blog; the clip of Noah admitting his sterilization has only slightly more views. Rachel wonders if she and Rabbi Greenburg are the only ones who know that Noah would never _jack his shit up_ before giving his mother a legitimate, _completely Jewish_ baby.

It's something they talked about in Jew group, a lot.

She doesn't stop being pissed until right before glee when Noah _accidentally _hip checks her out of the way so that Artie can _accidentally_ bump into Finn and send the clumsy boy careening down a short flight of stairs. Rachel doesn't laugh, she knows she _can't_ laugh, but she instantly feels so much better that she considers, _for about three seconds_, leaping into Noah's arms and kissing him in the middle of the hallway. Instead, Rachel adopts a properly horrified expression and hurries down the stairs to help Finn up off the floor.

Noah follows, most likely to ensure _Frankenteen_ doesn't crush her trying to get up, and she makes sure to mouth a 'Thank you' in his and Artie's direction. As Dr. Robinson would say, her relationship train with Finn has officially stopped at Dumbass Depot. Next stop? Fucked Up-ville. That she's willing to accept it, knowing a relationship with Noah is far from a sure thing, just goes to show just how little she's come in the self-esteem department.

Eventually they all make it to glee and Rachel quickly notices the change in seating arrangements. Artie sits on the front row, on the opposite side from Tina, and Tina and Mike sit together (Matt's absence is hardly felt at all). Noah, instead of parking it in the back of the room, sits directly behind Rachel. Quinn and Mercedes still sit together, with Brittany and Santana sitting behind them with a row between them, but Kurt has moved to the other chair beside Rachel (the one that Finn isn't occupying). It's a subtle change but goes far in proving just how alliances have shifted.

Mr. Shue talks about recruiting new members and making it to Nationals in New York. Rachel knows if they continue to blow their budget, rehearse for important events on the fly, and generally make a mockery of show choir, they'll be lucky if they place runner up against Vocal Adrenaline.

Of course, it won't stop her from figuring out a way to make the whole group so violently ill that they'll have to forfeit their place at Nationals and allow New Directions to go in their stead. While they might not believe her, she would _go to juvie_ for these people. _Her team_.

She's about to raise her hand and explain her concerns to Mr. Shue (namely ruining the group dynamic and blowing what little money they have on sets and costumes they only use once) when Finn grabs her wrist and forces her arm back down. That shit, right there, _ain't kosher_ in any sense of the word. Even though Noah kicks his chair _hard_, Rachel's still contemplating violence when Mr. Shue starts talking to Mercedes and Artie about covering 'New York State of Mind' in an attempt to attract people to glee club. She tries to keep her head from exploding, they do not need to make _stupid fucking t-shirts_, when Mike and Brittany chime in about choreography and Rachel finally decides to go with the flow.

It would be embarrassing if Finn decided to clamp his hand over her mouth and Noah decided to beat his ass for general douchebaggery.

* * *

Finn gets kicked off the football team for being a fucking dumbass.

She thinks the world of Artie but Coach Beiste's _first week_ was not the time to make impassioned pleas about letting the handicapped join the football team.

Rachel can't decide whether she's relieved, she might not always like him but she does worry about him suffering a serious spinal cord injury, or thoroughly disappointed. She knows Finn cares about his popularity, _she cares about his popularity too_, but she thinks it's funny how he was so concerned about them not getting to spend time together in light of her extracurricular activities yet doesn't realize that no football opens them up to a lot of _potential_ making out. Still, unless the social stock of the glee club skyrockets, she's about to become a glee loser dating _another_ glee loser.

Amidst Finn trying to work his way back into Coach Beiste's good graces, he decides that Rachel needs to _take one for the team_ if they're going to stay on top. What he means is that she needs to join the Cheerios. She can't even begin to explain how bad of an idea this is.

Even if most of the Cheerios didn't _hate_ her there's still the fact that her whole future revolves around her being able to sing _and_ dance on stage. If she fucks up her knee (like her Aunt Rhoda did) as a result of a sport's injury, then she can pretty much say goodbye to her future. It doesn't matter how she explains this to Finn, _over and over and over _again, he decides that she's just being selfish.

So, she tries out. And, of course, she kicks ass.

Sue Sylvester looks like she's been kicked in her non-existent ovaries. Becky keeps looking back and forth between Coach Sylvester and Rachel. Rachel says nothing for a minute and then locks eyes with the Cheerios' coach.

"I know you could use me; I know I'd make an excellent addition to your team. I _also _know you don't want to touch anything affiliated with Rachel Berry, unless you're planning on burning it. So, Coach Sylvester, I'm going to make this very easy on you. You're going to say that I'm just too _ethnic_ to be a Cheerio and we'll forget this ever happened."

The silence in the room is deafening. Evil Incarnate finally nods, her lips curved into a small smile.

"Your Jew nose would just be too distracting during competitions, Berry. No offense, but, unless you fix that honker, I can't, in good conscience, give you a position on my squad. Of course, because of the recent prohibition on Cheerios receiving plastic surgery, you would be disqualified if you decided to have elective surgery performed."

If she didn't think she'd die, Rachel would probably lean across the table and kiss Sue Sylvester full on the mouth. Finn is disappointed but declares he'll just have to work harder to get back on the football team. Finn's not the only one disappointed, Noah tells her before glee the next day that he was really looking forward to seeing her in a ponytail and a short red skirt.

She's not sure why, but she obliges him with just that the very next day.

* * *

Rachel can't decide whether she has a girl crush on Sunshine Corazon or hates her guts. The foreign exchange student catches her eye during their mediocre rendition of the Jay Z cover (it should in no way be associated with New York, ever) and Rachel manages to stop mentally bitching about the waste of money they _don't have_ on t-shirts they _don't need_ to sneak into Ms. Pillsbury's office to do some "research" on the Filipino.

Shortly after reading up on her triumphs in _regular_ choir, Rachel runs into Sunshine in the girls' bathroom. Honestly, she just wants to get a feel for the other girl's singing abilities and, more to the point, show off her own vocal prowess. Somewhere in the midst of all those, _somewhat_, good intentions, Rachel blacks out in an insecure rage and only comes to when Coach Sylvester tells them to shut up.

It's not her proudest moment.

Rationally, Rachel knows the glee club _needs_ Sunshine. If the loss to Vocal Adrenaline taught her anything, it was that they need to be recruiting exceptional voices (not just people who are going to sway in the background and look at her with damp eyes). The irrational part of Rachel, the one that considers punching Finn in the face on a daily basis, is afraid that if Sunshine joins New Directions the team will boot their _former star_ out on her ass so fast she won't even be able to grab her pink trolley bag.

She tries talking to Tina about it because they're still kind of friends even though Finn's no longer a football player. Tina responds by saying, "Please don't be mean to her, Rachel, I'll never hear the end of it from my mom. She's already convinced Mr. Shue's biased against Asians…I don't need her griping about you too." When Tina's a bust, it's not like she's going to send Sunshine to an active crack house or anything crazy like that, Rachel decides to try Kurt.

Her fellow diva-in-arms takes one look at her and tells her to 'Take a Xanax or, even better, go get laid.'

Rachel's on her way out of the library, the address of an _abandoned_ crack house in Columbus in hand, when her face collides with Santana's boobs.''

"Oh. My. Yahweh. Santana, I am so, so, _so_ sorry." The address in her hand isn't going to matter so much once Santana regains her composure and decides that Rachel's face needs to meet the floor. Repeatedly.

"The fuck, Berry? I know you're a midget, but, you should really watch where you're going."

There's several beats of awkward silence in which Santana glares at Rachel and Rachel stares at Santana with wide eyes. Finally, Rachel decides she needs to open her mouth and say _something_ because she really doesn't need a broken nose.

"How do you do it? What I mean is, how do you go back to the Cheerios after Quinn got you tossed to the bottom of the pyramid? You had _every_ reason, sort of, to make her life hell once you found out the father of her baby was your…whatever Noah was to you. You _didn't _and she repays you by throwing you under the metaphorical bus."

What Rachel wants to say is '_How do you keep from losing your shit and murdering her in cold blood?_' No matter how much time she spends with Noah Puckerman, she'll still have more social grace than that.

Santana looks at her like she's insane, Rachel knows the look well, and takes a couple of steps back before answering.

"Honestly? I might still want to beat her bitch ass, but, I would rather be on the bottom of the pyramid than suffer through another semester without Quinn on the team." Santana takes a deep breath before continuing. "We _barely_ placed first last year. If it hadn't been for Hummel's impressive French singing skills, we might not have even placed second. I might be a selfish bitch, Berry, but I _need_ my team to do well. I've got a scholarship to Notre Dame riding on two more first place cheer trophies."

Rachel wonders if it would be too melodramatic if she balled up the piece of paper she's holding and started chewing it down into a pulpy mess. Dr. Richardson would probably approve of it in _theory_ but not in action.

"Look, I know you _need_ a certain amount of _solos_ every semester like I _need _a certain amount of _orgasms_ but if this chick can help us beat the bitches from Carmel, then you need to let her audition. Besides, Mr. Shue so has a guilty hard on for you…he'd never let Quinn boot your tiny ass."

"I…that's…uh…thank you. I have a tendency to develop tunnel vision when it comes to glee and my future Broadway career…"

"Don't care, Midget, see you later."

At the end of the week, Rachel sits through a really excellent rendition of 'Listen' and somehow keeps herself from flying out of her chair and attacking Sunshine with her microphone stand. It probably has something to do with the fact that Noah keeps his hand on her shoulder through the whole song. Finn, as usual, is oblivious she's about the fly into a blind, jealous rage. He only seems to pick up on the bad vibes when the violence is about to be directed towards him.

Still, when Sue more or less arranges the exchange of Sunshine joining Vocal Adrenaline for a permanent United States Visa, Rachel has to call upon _all_ of her extensive dramatic training to keep from acting like she's pleased with the turn of events. She spends most of her Friday afternoon session with Dr. Robinson talking about how _Santana Lopez_ was the North point for her moral compass for about five minutes and how much that _scares_ her.

The highlight of her week, however, is when Noah wraps his arm around her shoulders and whispers, "Proud of you, _Rach_," in her ear after service is over at temple.

He's been the most important person in her life since she was five years old and she wonders how to get _them _back on track without breaking Finn into a million little pieces. She also wonders, if Finn's such an ass, why she cares so much about not hurting him.


	5. A Tale of Hot Barely Pubescent Jews

**Author's Note: **This chapter has had so many false starts I was beginning to think it was cursed. Eventually, I decided to throw out several ideas (one of which involved condoms but no smut) and settled on one with plenty of back story. Hopefully, you'll approve of this decision.

I want to give my thanks to all my amazing reviewers and subscribers. My inbox is constantly flooded with new alerts and it never fails to put a smile on my face. I also want to apologize for the lag time. A combination of working in retail during the holidays, getting sick three days before Christmas, and having to study for my Hawaii driver's license (out-of-state applicants have to take a written test) meant that I had a hard time finding time to write. I will try my hardest to get a couple more updates in before my trip to the mainland on January 1st.

**In Treatment**

_**Chapter 4: A Tale of Hot (Barely Pubescent) Jews**_

* * *

_Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind._

_**Dr. Seuss**_

* * *

Rachel knows it's unfair to want Finn to choose her over football. After all, she _needs_ him on the football team as much as he _wants_ to be on the football team. The fact of the matter is, if he were to choose her, she'd reward him by sending him back to Coach Beiste to plead his case. Honestly, all she really wants him to do is to pick her first for once. Quinn, football, or _SantanaandBrittany_ have always come first before her.

She _knows_ she's a good first choice. After all, Noah's chosen her first _twice_. The second time was sophomore year, during their five days of dating (that she wishes she'd never ended), when he picked glee club over football. The first time, though, he picked _her_ over football without any consideration to his future high school career.

Rachel saw the writing on the wall, though, and she wasn't about to deprive _her Noah_ from a good thing. It's on her second trip to Dr. Howell's office, when he's put her under general anesthesia for absolutely _no reason_, that she forgets all about Britney Spears and dreams about an eleven year old Noah with cropped curls and a ridiculous attitude (not much has changed except for his hair cut).

* * *

It isn't until they're in the sixth grade that Lima starts to become hell on earth, not that it hasn't always been, but, sixth grade is when Rachel actually starts to notice it. Before sixth grade she has friends, Kurt and Tina, and is treated fairly well by just about the whole student body. Although she likes to think it's because of her sunny disposition and friendly demeanor, she knows it has more to do with that fact that she and Noah are pretty much attached at the hip.

They are _always_ in the same classroom. When a clerical error in the second grade put them in separate classrooms the administration at Heritage Elementary was forced to deal with angry phone calls from her dads _and_ his mom for three days until the matter was _properly addressed_. Not surprisingly, it never happened again. Not only are they always in the same class, but, no teacher dares to separate them. Rachel _always_ sits at the end of the row and Noah _always _sits on her left. Miss Anderson learned that lesson the hard way in the fourth grade when she attempted to rearrange the classroom in alphabetical order. Not only did Haley Beeson refuse to sit on Rachel's left but Mike Chang refused to sit on her right. No one in their right mind wanted to sit anywhere near the raging Noah Puckerman. It took two hours and four trips to the principal's office before order was restored.

In the end, Noah sat next to Rachel and Rachel sat at the end of the row.

They eat lunch together, although they rarely sit alone, and play together on the playground. Noah walks with Rachel afterschool to her dance studio and waits for her to finish before riding home with her and her dads. Some nights they eat together with Mrs. Puckerman and Noah's little sister, Hannah, but most nights they bicker over which takeout place her daddy should order from.

Then sixth grade happens and everything starts to fall apart. The two main catalysts just so happen to be _Quinn Fabray_ and _football._ Quinn Fabray and football will continue to plague her life up into the present day.

Football is the reason for the mess and Quinn just pushes everything along to its horrible conclusion. There are two junior high schools (sixth through eighth grade) in Lima, Grover Cleveland and Franklin Pierce, and they both have a football team. While the sixth graders rarely get to play, those picked have a better chance of leaving the bench in seventh grade and starting in the eighth grade. In Lima, playing football in the sixth grade means just about everything. Noah knows this, Rachel knows this, and more importantly, she _wants_ him to play.

The distinction from Noah in sixth grade and Finn junior year is that Rachel wants Noah to play because she (_loves_) cares a lot for him and wants him to be happy. While he's too macho to show off his musical talents, he has a lovely voice even at eleven, she knows he'll shine on the football field. And Noah, who (_loves_) cares about Rachel, decides the best place for her to cheer for him is on the sidelines. In a cheerleading uniform.

Rachel, who's never had to be asked to do something twice by Noah Puckerman (he's never gotten_ her_ in trouble), marches straight into Miss Tavish's room to pick up a permission form to try out for the junior high cheerleading squad. She's not thinking of her dads or her Aunt Rhoda or anyone else except for Noah when she politely asks to sign up for try outs. Miss Tavish gets a funny look on her face but hands Rachel a form anyway. When Rachel skips down the hall to find her best friend, she misses how the funny look transforms into an ugly one.

At eleven, _almost twelve_, it will be the first time she suffers negative consequences from having two gay dads.

Even if her dads were okay with her cheering, which they're not even though it's mostly just stomping around and yelling and waving pom-poms, it wouldn't matter because Miss Tavish has absolutely no desire to let the daughter of two _faggots_ try out for _her_ cheerleading team. Since Rachel's dads throw away the permission form, once she's fled the room to call Noah, she would have remained quite ignorant of this fact. Unfortunately, Miss Tavish just happens to be Judy Fabray's sister and Quinn Fabray's aunt. And since Quinn as never really liked Rachel, but never really had the opportunity to attack her, she relishes in dispensing this little tidbit of information…in the middle of the cafeteria.

Quinn, flanked by Brittany and Mercedes (who hasn't quite started to eat her feelings), stalks over to Rachel the minute Noah returns to the lunch line to charm the lunch ladies into a second helping of jello. While most of the student body has no clue what sodomites are, they do pick up on the other insults (_Manhands_ becomes part of the wider Grover Cleveland Junior High School vocabulary that day) and quickly join in on the taunting. By the time Noah's returned from the line, after being stopped by Santana who's still the _new kid_ after two years and one of Quinn's lackeys, the majority of the sixth graders have formed a circle around Quinn and Rachel. Miss Tavish, who just happens to be on lunch duty, doesn't notice _anything wrong_ until Noah starts to break his way through the circle by kicking, punching, and yelling like a maniac.

It's pretty much the beginning of the end after that.

While it will be a couple of years before slushy facials and crude drawings, the damage is done. Kurt's the first to drop her as a friend. In a couple of years it will dawn on Rachel _why_ but at the time she doesn't understand how he can throw away three years of friendship (and countless hours of musical marathons) just because (_a large part of the student body_) a few people are narrow minded. When Mercedes doesn't make the cheerleading squad (she's not very flexible) and gets dropped by Quinn for Santana, it isn't long before Kurt and Mercedes become a dynamic duo. While Tina takes slightly longer to disappear from her life, the result is still the same. No more sleepovers, dim sum nights with Tina's mom, or celebrating the Chinese New Year.

Considering Noah's the only one who stays a constant in her life, it (still) surprises Rachel that she's the one to push him away.

He's good at football, good enough that he sometimes gets to play when they're up in the fourth quarter, but his athletic prowess and _general badassery_ doesn't prevent a couple of brave souls from taunting him when they see him with Rachel. It usually results in a general escalation of violence that ends with the "taunter" on the ground clutching his stomach and the "tauntee" being sent to the principal's office. After two weeks, he starts to develop a worry line between his eyebrows that's only appeared before when his dad was mentioned.

Two days after her (pretty awful) party celebrating her becoming a _Bat Mitzvah_, Rachel realizes it's going to be much less hurtful if she lets Noah go. If she waits around for the cheerleaders and jocks to make up his mind, she's probably going to be all melodramatic and think about cutting her wrists or something equally asinine. She waits until the end of the day and manages to corner him outside of the music room (they'd never admit it but they've been more or less been avoiding each other since the whole _Bat Mitzvah incident_).

There's a lot of things she wants to say, but can't. There's even more things that she should say, but, those stick in her throat as well. In the end, all Rachel manages to get out (before she starts bawling her eyes out) is that he's her best friend and she (_loves him_) wants him to be happy. He won't be happy if he has to keep fighting members of his _own team_ and gets kicked off (or permanently injured).

Noah looks at her like she's grown another head, grabs her by the shoulders, and tells her to "Stop crying like a baby, Rach. If it's you or football, you know I'm going to choose you. Us hot Jews have to stick together; it's in the Torah or something."

What follows is the most miserable fifteen minutes of Rachel's life. When she's done, Noah has effectively been removed from her life. Within a week, Noah and Santana get caught making out in the janitor's closet. By seventh grade, it's as if everyone's forgotten they were ever friendly, much less _best friends_. Rachel becomes 'Rachel _with a gold _star Berry' and throws herself even more into dance, voice, and acting classes. They avoid each other at Temple when at all possible. Her dads are so worried about her that they schedule her for her first (of many) appointments with Dr. Steiner.

It's on the first day of freshman year, when he tags her with a slushy for the first time, that she realizes that while it sounded like a _good idea_ at the time, distancing herself from Noah was the _stupidest decision_ she's ever made in her entire life.

Breaking up with Noah sophomore year, dating Finn, and almost sleeping with Jesse all rank a _very_ close second.

* * *

Ultimately, her insecurities surrounding Finn rejoining the football team have less to do with Finn (although he is a factor) and more to do with Noah and the sixth grade. When she finally tells Dr. Robinson about this, she surprised by his reaction.

"Rachel, I'm a professional. Our sessions are supposed to be about your journey to personal growth and discovery. I'm supposed to poke, prod, and gently toe you towards the correct path. I'm not supposed to give you detailed instructions."

She wants to tell him to shut up, that she's tired of talking about Noah and football and her absolutely ridiculous life. Instead, Rachel leans forward and makes herself listen to the man who patiently listens to her every week.

"I can't, in good conscience, keep silent about this. You spend ninety percent of your sessions talking about Noah Puckerman. It doesn't matter what's happened during the week, somehow, Noah manages to worm his way into the conversation. I'm not saying you two should ride off into the sunset. What I will say is that it seems the two of you have something special and it isn't often that two people play such an important part in each others' lives."

She wants to tell him she hasn't played an important part of Noah's life in a very, very, _very_ long time. It sounds like a lie, when she mentally sounds it out, so she keeps her mouth shut.

"Honestly, I don't feel like you're going to make any more progress until you've resolved things with Finn _and_ Noah. I'm not going to push you, but, I'll keep bringing it up until you wish I kept crystal vases on my coffee table."

Rachel knows he has a point. She knows it's even a good one. It doesn't stop her from feigning sick, skipping Temple, and calling Kurt to come over to watch _Singin' in the Rain_. When Cyd Charisse makes her entrance, Rachel finds that she can't stop crying.

* * *

**Author's Note:** That was pretty heavy. I apologize if you missed the snark and general irreverence that usually populates my pages. At the same time, I hope all the calls for back story have been (somewhat) fulfilled. Originally the _Bat Mitzvah incident_ was going to appear, but, I just couldn't get it to sit right within this chapter; I have a feeling it will eventually appear as a standalone story. Honestly, there were a lot of things that I wanted to happen, but, this is what came about in the end. Coming up next, a return to your regularly scheduled programming (for the most part, anyway).


	6. Sooner or Later it Comes Down to Fate

**Author's Note:** When I sat down to write this chapter, I knew three things: (1) Finn would see Jesus in a grilled cheese sandwich, (2) Burt Hummel would have a heart attack, and (3) events would be set in motion that would spell change. I started to write and this is what spilled out.

**In Treatment**

_**Chapter 5: Sooner or Later it Comes Down to Fate**_

* * *

_Not all religion is to be found in the church, any more than all knowledge is found in the classroom._

_**Author Unknown**_

* * *

Rachel gets _the_ phone call while she's in the middle of completing a _glissade_. She's hanging in mid-air (in that moment that feels like an eternity) when '_The Way We Were'_ starts blasting from across the room. She never, ever, _ever _leaves her phone on during dance class (Madame is kind of a bitch about things like that) but the nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach threatens to develop into a full blown panic attack until she makes the decision to take her phone out of silent mode.

She's gearing up for a really spectacular bitch out when a voice, one that's almost as familiar as her dads', stops her dead in her tracks.

"Rachel, honey, this is Ava."

Nothing good has ever come out of Ava Puckerman calling Rachel. Nothing. Ever. Rachel has a hard time counting on both hands just how many times Noah's mom has called the house (or her cell phone) personally seeking out Rachel. Each time it goes something like this, 'Rachel, honey, I need you to come to the hospital. It's Noah, sweetie."

Ava's a nurse; she knows _everything_ that goes on at Lima Memorial. She can be three states away with no cell service and _still know_ her son is sitting in the E.R. It's a little scary.

The first time was when she was thirteen. The last time was two days after Regionals. She honestly wants to tell Ava to shut the hell up and leave her the fuck alone so she can complete ballet class in peace without worrying about Noah Puckerman.

_This time_ is the _first time_ she wishes this was just a case of Noah Puckerman being an idiot (with Daddy-family-Quinn-Beth issues) and landing himself in the emergency room.

She doesn't even realize she's still in her tights and leotard until she's half in, half out of Kurt's dad's room, wondering what the fuck she's supposed to be doing. If he were dead, she'd fall back on Jewish tradition and bake the shit out of the contents of her kitchen. Rachel has no clue how she's supposed to deal with the whole coma situation. Kurt, _Thank God_, finally looks up from all the tubes and wires and the rest of the mechanical chaos/medical miracle that's currently keeping his dad alive. It takes him a couple of seconds, in which he blinks owlishly, but he finally sneers.

"Diva, what, in the name of Barbara, are you wearing? If you were going to violate visiting hours by coming in here, the least you could do is put on something aesthetically pleasing."

Rachel wants to tell him that Noah would find it _plenty_ pleasing (she shouldn't know about his barrѐ fantasy but she does) and that it's probably as close as Finn's come to seeing a naked woman, but, she holds her tongue. It's hard, bickering with Kurt is one of her favorite things to do, but honestly she just wants to focus on the man lying on the really uncomfortable hospital bed.

"So, it was his heart, for sure?"

Kurt just nods, she can tell he's about to start crying again, and Rachel manages to shrug on an oversized cardigan before plopping down beside him. It dawns on her in that moment that if Burt Hummel dies then Kurt has absolutely no family left (that she knows of). That's about all it takes before she starts to cry. Loudly. It's the kind of crying that is accompanied by a flushed face, red eyes, and a snotty nose. Kurt would be horrified if he weren't bawling along beside her.

She totally loses the award for 'Keeping Your Head Together in Emotionally Charged Situations."

At the point where the nurses are _thisclose_ to coming in and sedating the pair of them, Noah comes stomping in the room.

"Berry, Hummel, I will bum a rusting syringe off my ma and start stabbing myself with it if you don't stop your boo-hooing in the next, I dunno, ten seconds?"

Based on previous experience, Rachel knows that he's patiently counting the 'Mississippis' in his head. She also knows that Noah's at least (somewhat) serious about the syringe and the stabbing. So, she leans forward and says the one thing guaranteed to catch Kurt's attention.

"Did I just smudge my mascara on your Gucci?"

Kurt shuts up, the nurses breathe a sigh of relief, and Noah just smirks. There's relative silence for roughly a minute before it dawns on Kurt that his dad's coma isn't the only fucked up thing about the current arrangement.

"Why are you here? Where's Finn? Better yet, where's Carole?"

Rachel answers his questions mostly because she's gotten really good at fitting a lot of words into a really small amount of time and somewhat because Noah's explanation would contain a fair amount of curse words (just because she _thinks_ them, doesn't means she has to _say_ them) and Kurt doesn't need any more upsetting. Eventually it's relayed that Finn's not there because he's got no clue, Carole's with Rachel's (lawyer) daddy trying to get some legal say over Burt's care based on the fact that she's his girlfriend, and Noah's there because his mom told him to take both Kurt and Rachel home.

It takes a couple of hours and a couple more bribes (Rachel's pretty sure Noah promises to take off his shirt at some point) before they manage to drag Kurt from the room. She knows he doesn't want to leave his dad alone but he's not doing anyone any good by trying to sleep on the narrow hospital cot. She also knows, in the midst of all of this, she should probably call her boyfriend considering his _almost-stepdad_ is in a _coma_ but she honestly has no desire to do so. Ava called _her_ because _she_ was the only person Kurt wanted to talk to. Not Finn, not Mercedes, _her_.

Beyond the surge of conceit and ego expansion is the fact that Finn would somehow manage to make this all about him (when it's Kurt's dad in the hospital) and she knows none of them really need to deal with that right now.

Or ever.

The babysitter leaves when they stumble in the door and Rachel goes upstairs to change (and check on the sleeping Hannah) while Puck tries to force Kurt to eat warmed up chicken noodle soup and sloppily made peanut butter sandwiches. She comes downstairs in one of Noah's old shirts and a pair of his basketball shorts (rolled up and tied tight they are still way too big) and finds Kurt asleep on the pull out couch and her former partner in crime cleaning up the kitchen.

"If you think you're walking around my house looking like that, you're insane."

She knows it's tacky and extremely slutty, but, she still has a vision of him pushing her up against the refrigerator and coaxing her to orgasm with just his voice (and maybe, _maybe_ a couple of fingers).

"Again, I repeat, you're absolutely _fucking insane_, Berry."

"I'm _not_ crazy, Noah. Dr. Robinson and I are slowly, but surely, working through my myriad of _life struggles_. I assure you that I'm within the clinical parameters of _sanity_." He looks at her like she's slapped him, and not in the good way, and Rachel realizes she's never used that tone with _him_.

"Fuck, _Rach_, I know you're not crazy. Remember who you're dealing with. _I am _not_ Finn Hudson."_

"You think I don't know that?" That she isn't constantly mentally tallying up the ways that Noah and Finn are completely and totally different. "We wouldn't be _here_ if you were anything like Finn." Rachel means the words as a compliment, but when he pushes off the counter and stalks towards her, she realizes that given the current situation, Noah isn't taking it that way.

"What the fuck do I have to do? Seriously, _Rachel_? This…this _thing_ that's going on now…all the god damn time…it has to stop or _I'm_ _going_ _to lose my mind_. I will go bouncing-off-the-fucking-walls-insane, okay?

Sexy, fun, cheat-on-your-boyfriend time has just escaped out the window. More like bashed it's way through the window. Not that she was going to cheat on Finn (at least she doesn't think she was) but it's hard to fantasize about someone when they're pissed off at you. Especially when they have every reason to be pissed off at you.

"Okay," is all she's able to say before sprinting up the stairs to the air mattress that's waiting in Hannah's room.

* * *

No one talks during the ride to school.

Kurt looks forlornly out the window (a combination of his dad's unchanging condition and wearing Noah's hand-me-downs). Noah clutches the steering wheel of his truck tightly and fixes his gaze straight ahead. Rachel stares at her hands and wonders when she'll be able to pick her car up from the hospital. They go their separate ways in the parking lot: Kurt to grab a change of clothes out of his locker, Noah to grab Jacob Ben-Israel and toss him in the nearest dumpster, and Rachel to grab a Red Bull from the cafeteria.

It isn't until right before the warning bell rings that she realizes she has _no_ missed calls and her only text is from _Tina_, asking about their English homework. She doesn't know whether to laugh or to cry.

Despite almost skipping school with Kurt _twice_ (once for him and once because she just wants to go anywhere but Pre-Calc), Rachel somehow makes it to glee. Once there, she's gripped by the overwhelming urge to run far, far away. Santana's fixed her with a very steely '_I will kill you_' look, Kurt's sitting on the far side of the room away from _everyone_, and Mr. Shue's announcement of Burt's condition makes her sick to her stomach all over again.

It's at that point that she figures out that the nagging feeling in her stomach she thought was hunger pangs was actually her psychic sense warning her that _nothing good_ was coming out of this meeting of glee club members. Finn's alternatively pissed off because no one (including his mom) told him about Burt and hopeful that his Lord and Savior (who he discovered on a grilled cheese sandwich) will make everything better. Santana keeps glaring at her as if it will cause Rachel to burst into flames and Mercedes' eyes keep darting from Noah, to Kurt, to Rachel as if she'll uncover the greatest gossip ever if she keeps looking between the three of them.

And then, amid all the talk about religion, Noah gets up and sings _Only the Good Die Young_. To Quinn. In the middle of the song, Rachel stands, grabs her bag, and starts walking. She doesn't cause a scene, just gets up and mutters some half assed excuse to Mr. Shue. She feels like marching back into the choir room, grabbing Kurt's hand, and dragging him out with her but she doesn't see the point in involving him in her personal drama hell. He's got enough to deal with without worrying about her life as well.

It isn't until she's a quarter of a mile away from the high school that she realizes she's headed towards the hospital.

She wants to call Dr. Robinson but _won't_ and decides she absolutely hates her life.

Rachel's almost got a mile under her belt and her feet are just beginning to hurt (patent leather wasn't made for walking long distances) when her ears are assaulted by a cat call in rather broken Spanish. Santana's leaning out of her car window, her expression muddied as if she can't decide between a glare and a smirk.

"Get your ass in the car, Midget, before I decide to run it over."

She weighs her options in about two seconds, Santana may be joking but Rachel's not going to take any chances, and hops into the front passenger seat. She resists the urge to fiddle with the radio (the Spice Girls are blaring through the speakers) and keeps her hands occupied by hugging her bag against her chest.

"Your life is a really awful Lifetime Original Movie, Midget. You should fix that, _stat_, before I decide to take out all of my Quinn-related aggression on _you_. I give you permission to keep everything stable until Hummel's dad wakes up but we both know I'm not a very patient person."

Nothing else is said and Rachel never does ask how Santana knew to drop her off at the hospital. Quite frankly, she doesn't _want_ to know.

* * *

The week drags on. Kurt stops being so angry (at least at her, God's still a fair target) and Mercedes keeps belting out _deeply spiritual_ songs at every opportunity. Rachel _knows_ Mercedes is trying to be a good friend to Kurt, but, it's really hard to separate _that fact_ from her overall dislike for the girl. She tries though, for Kurt, because he's her number one priority until his dad gets better. Santana stops glaring at her (for the most part) but Quinn picks up where she leaves off and Brittany pops up at weird times to ask her completely incomprehensible questions. Finn talks a lot about his grilled cheese and Sam dislocates his shoulder. She honestly couldn't tell you what Artie, Tina, and Mike do during this time. They probably go to the hospital at least once.

Noah and Rachel avoid each other. Rachel attempts to avoid Finn and Finn follows Rachel around like she's carrying around a bowl of tomato soup with the Virgin Mary floating on the surface. By Wednesday, Rachel's exhausted herself worrying about Burt and Kurt and Noah and if Quinn's going to beat her to death with a giant crucifix.

Somehow, she allows herself to be alone in her bedroom with Finn. At some point in her monologue about Broadway, the Tony Awards, and having (Noah's) Jewish babies (all of which is designed to send Finn screaming from the room), she launches herself at her boyfriend and lets him get to second base. The second after she does it, she knows it's a mistake.

As soon as he's gone, she runs to the bathroom and barely manages to vomit in the toilet. It's the first time her (lack of a) gag reflex has failed her. While she's lying on the cool tile of the bathroom, trying to make sense of her shower curtain pattern, Rachel decides, threat or no threat, she _has_ to make a change.

Not only is life too short but if she's going to make it through junior year without damaging her vocal cords and eroding her enamel she's going to have to ensure that Finn never, ever, _ever_ touches her boobs again.

Rachel's pretty sure if she doesn't change things, and soon, she's going to go bouncing-off-the-fucking-walls-insane, too.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Not 100% happy with this chapter but I honestly didn't know where else to go with it. Hopefully you still enjoyed it. The next chapter will be from Puck's POV – I think I had so much trouble with this one because that's all that I can currently think about. Again, I just want to mention how much I appreciate you guys. I just hope I continue to do justice by you.


	7. The Opposite of a Happy Place

**Author's Note:** Word of warning, this chapter really earns its 'M' rating. Puck has a dirty mouth and a dirtier mind; boy might be pissed off at just about everyone but he still thinks about sex. A lot. Hopefully this chapter will make those wishing for some Puckleberry smut very, very happy.

**In Treatment**

_**Chapter 6: It's Kind of the Opposite of a Happy Place**_

* * *

_At the core of all anger is a need that is not being fulfilled._

_**Marshall B. Rosenburg**_

* * *

For the record, when Puck swings up his guitar to belt out a truly panty dropping version of _'Only the Good Die Young_,' the only thought swirling around in his head is that he _really_ wants to get his dick sucked. It's been for_fucking_ever (two weeks) and he's hoping to get Santana hot by talking about white dresses and rosaries (she's a lapsed Catholic and he's pretty sure she _gets off_ on the guilt).

And then Rachel pops into his peripheral vision with her big, beautiful eyes and her soft lips and her shiny hair that smells _so damn good _all _the damn time_. Honestly, there's a split second where he thinks about turning around and dialing up the weird ménage trios (Santana calls it Pucklberry Finn) shit they've got going on from an eight out of ten to about a twelve. Then his memory keys in on the _third _worst conversation he's ever had in his kitchen. The image of Rachel wearing _his_ clothes talking to him like he's a _fucking douchetard_ flips a switch and pretty soon he's hanging out in the white static-y place (like snow on an old TV) that he usually inhabits right before he punches some sorry fucker in the jaw.

When he comes to, he's standing in front of Quinn acting like he's about two seconds away from putting a ring on her finger. It's confusing to say the least.

Nobody seems to notice that he misses a note (or five) when Rachel rushes out of the room like it's _her dad_ in the hospital and _she's_ the one with the problem with God. Usually he tries to keep from passing judgment on how fucked up glee club is (he's got more problems than all these morons put together) but today he just can't help himself.

He doesn't blame Kurt for not noticing Rachel's flight from the room (dude's got enough shit to worry about) but he thinks Mercedes is a fucking bitch for mirroring Quinn's smirk. Seriously, it's time for her to get over Rachel upstaging her during the _first grade_ talent show. That shit happened a really long time ago. Finn's too busy staring at Quinn with that stupid constipated look on his face (it means he's thinking) to notice his girlfriend ran off when her _former best friend_ serenaded the _born again virgin_. Sam just looks confused, which is understandable because Puck's already told him to '_Hit that already and quit asking me if it's okay_,' in response to repeated questions about pursuing Quinn.

Dude seriously wouldn't shut the fuck up.

The only other person Puck pays attention to is Santana and she looks at him like he should die in a fire before storming out of the room in spectacular Rachel Berry fashion. His relationship with Santana has always been complicated but he's got no fucking clue why she's suddenly all _Team Berry_. Honestly, it makes him equal parts nauseous and turned on. Which is a pretty unreal combination.

* * *

They're thirteen the first time Puck almost goes to juvie. The junior high football team is in the weight room, acting like they're all bad asses, when Azimio announces he's taking Rachel to the high school homecoming game. As in he's already asked and she's already accepted. When the idiotic fuckface starts talking about how he's got a fool proof plan in place for removing Rachel's panties, Puck goes to that little empty place in his head.

When he comes back to reality, his hands look like shit and Azimio is curled up into a little ball on the floor. There's not _a lot_ of blood but Puck's breathing really hard and fuckface is alternating between wheezing like an asthmatic and crying like a little girl. He finds out later that he broke one rib and cracked two others. Honestly though, the dude got off lucky; Puck's pretty sure that he was trying to break his teeny tiny pencil dick (Azimio definitely doesn't live up to the black guy stereotype anymore than Chang lives up to the Asian guy one).

Rachel's already been sitting in his hospital room for over an hour (all she's done is stare at the floor and shoot his ma a watery smile every time she shows up to tell him the doctor is on his way) when Hiram, her daddy, shows up. Hiram's always been his favorite: he's a Jew, he can throw a football, and he's _always_ slow to judge. He spares one glance to look at Puck's hands and then (very softly) tells Rachel she needs to leave the room.

Honestly, if Puck didn't know better, he would have guessed that Hiram sucked a whole lot of dick in order to get him off with only twenty four hours of community service. Apparently _defending a young woman's honor_ goes a long way with a judge who's got a teenage daughter of his own.

Ninety nine percent of all the stupid shit that sends him to the hospital from that point on has to do with Rachel. His ma just keeps calling her and she just keeps coming to the hospital. She never says anything but her and her daddy keep showing up, so, he must be doing _something_ right while he's fucking up all over the damn place.

* * *

He's not really sure how he ends up in front of the convenience store.

It starts because his little sister is staying with their Aunt Ruth, _again_, and his mom has been practically living at the hospital. They're all worried about money (they're always worried about having enough fucking money to cover the bills, the mortgage payment, and the clothes that Hannah keeps growing out of) and Puck wonders, for the billionth time, if his pathetic dead beat dad beats on his new, perfect family in Des Moines. They've got a dog for fuck sakes, a fucking Cocker spaniel. All his ma gets is dodged child support payments.

Pretty soon he's thinking about Quinn (and a half full bottle of Jack _magically_ appears in his hand), which leads to him thinking about Beth (he takes a pull from the bottle that is _probably_ a shot), which leads him to thinking about Shelby (which makes him take a drink before he gets too pissed off), and that leads him back to Rachel (he stops trying to judge if he's taking shots and just starts drinking).

At first he's thinking about just how fucking _pissed off_ he is at the whole situation. Puck's never really been good at staying mad at Rachel Berry, however, and pretty soon he's got about a quarter of Jack left and is thinking about how much he wants to touch her.

Actually _touching her_ is putting it pretty mildly.

Puck thinks about that night in the kitchen and how much he wanted to slam her against the refrigerator door. _Hard_. Just hard enough to widen her eyes and make her lips form that perfect "o" they _always_ manage when she's surprised. He's straining at his pants just thinking about pinning her wrists above her head with one hand (is it any surprise he gets turned on thinking about _controlling the control freak_?) and sucking on her bottom lip until she's writhing against him.

He knows _everything_ about turning _his girl_ on.

The last thing he remembers, before he shows up in front of the 7-Eleven drunk out of his mind with his fly down, is that he's got his dick in one hand and his bottle of Jack in the other. Puck's got no clue how he _found_ his ma's keys much less _why _he decided to take her car for a ride across town.

Deep, deep, _deep_ down inside he knows that stealing the ATM is not going to make anything better at home. His mom is still going to work her ass off, he's still going to be pissed off at just about _everyone_, and to top it off he's going to land his ass in juvie while Finn is free to seduce (Puck uses that word very loosely) Rachel. There's no way in _Dante's nine hells_ (he reads thank you very much) that Hiram's going to be able to get him out of this mess if he decides to follow through with his dumbass plan. Still, he's rifling through his ma's trunk, looking for the chain he put in there last November, wondering if juvie's really as bad as watching Rachel force herself to stay in a relationship with a guy that she can't really stand.

Of course he _knows_. Behind that bored expression in Jew group is someone who's committing every single thing Rachel says to memory. He knows it's bordering on creepy and fucking obsessive but he just can't help himself.

He's about two seconds from hooking the chain to the frame of the car (next step, attempted robbery) when something in the corner of his eye catches his attention.

_Fuck his life_.

Rachel's running towards the 7-Eleven like it's not fifty degrees outside and she doesn't have an elliptical in her basement. She's wearing these tiny, tiny, _tiny_ shorts that make her legs look a million miles long and he manages to yank his fly up before his growing hard on makes it obvious he's not wearing any underwear. In addition to the itty bitty black shorts, she's wearing a hot pink sports bra that's barely covered up by the shirt she's wearing (the sleeves are cut out and she pretty much just kept cutting until about halfway down the side of her shirt). Every time she takes a step the shirt flutters and he gets a glimpse of bright pink that contrasts really nicely with her tan, toned stomach.

Puck's been with a lot of women and he's never lost his shit. Not even when he was fourteen and cashing in his v-card (it could be said that he's somewhat of a sexual prodigy). Looking at Rachel though, free of makeup, her hair up in a ridiculously messy bun, drenched in sweat, and he's desperately trying to think about Finn's mailman.

It's the thought of Finn (who's his bro, even when he wants to punch him in the dick) that keeps him from embarrassing himself.

Rachel stops to stretch, she bends over and touches her toes like it's absolutely nothing, and he's debating whether to call out to her or wait for her to show up with Hiram to bail him out when she looks up and notices him. She got that fake ass smile plastered on her face (it's the same show smile she's had since they were nine) and it isn't until she lifts her t-shirt up to wipe off her face that he notices that she's been crying. He might have spent most of the night wavering between pissed off and aroused, but, she's _his girl_ and he just wants to make her stop crying because he could very well be the reason why this time.

"Noah? May I ask what you're doing?"

He wants to tell her that '_No you may not_,' but he reminds himself that she's been _crying_. He's drunk but he's not that drunk.

"God," yes, she never really stops talking, "you smell like a bar, Noah. What the _hell_ do you think you're doing driving your mother's car while you're intoxicated? You are so unbelievably stupid, _Noah Elijah Puckerman_."

Her face is red and she's stomping her foot and waving her hands around like she _always does_ when she's so pissed off she's about two seconds from crying. All Puck can do is stand there with the chain in his hand looking between the car, Rachel, and the 7-Eleven ATM. It isn't until he drops the chain and starts moving towards her that he realizes she's so caught up in her bitchfest that she's got no clue that he's closer to her than he is to the car.

It isn't until Puck puts his hands on her shoulders (he's got half a mind to shake the crazy out of her) that she startles. When her lips form that "o," all he can think about is her dropping to her knees in the middle of the 7-Eleven parking lot; just because he knows _that_ will _never_ _happen_, doesn't stop him from fantasizing about it. His only excuse for what happens next is that he's envisioning the best blow job ever (again, it's been for_fucking_ever). He honestly has no clue Rachel's poking his chest with her finger until the sensation of his back hitting the side of the car jolts him back to the present.

Rachel looks seriously pissed and not all that loving.

"_Please_ tell me you _weren't_ planning on relieving the 7-Eleven of their ATM. _Please_ tell me you _didn't_ get drunk and drive all the way across town to _rob a mother fucking convenience store_."

That's one _hell_ and one _mother fucking _and he knows she's beyond pissed. She's got a prohibition on those kinds of words in _her _vocabulary. This is the point where he's supposed to smooth things over, promise to be a good boy, and ask for a ride home. Instead, he maneuvers them so that _Rachel's_ the one pressed against the car and _he's_ the one pressed against her.

If he's going to be bitched at, it might as well be from a position of power.

"How long have we known each other, _Rach_? Since we were what four, five? You _know_ I don't plan this shit, it just _happens_. One minute I'm jerking off, thinking about doing things to you that would require me to bleach the kitchen afterward, and the next thing I know I'm standing in front of the 7-Eleven thinking about my _asshole sperm donor_." Her expression softens, she's always extra nice when he brings up his dad, and he just plows ahead. Puck's gotten a lot better about talking about his feelings since Rabbi Greenburg started Jew group.

"Ma's practically _living at the hospital_, Hannah keeps bouncing between our house and Aunt Ruth's, and I _fucking hate_ the fact that you get up every single god damn day and decide that being with Finn is so much better than taking a chance and being with me."

He's finally done it; he's finally developed Rachel's habit for word vomit.

"_Noah_…"

Puck doesn't want to hear her weak ass excuses, in fact if she says anything else he's probably going to punch a window out. He does the only thing he can think of to shut Rachel the fuck up. He grabs the back of her neck, tangling his fingers in the soft hair along her hairline that she can never get to stay put, and kisses her. _Hard_. Puck's pretty sure he's about two seconds away from drawing blood when she straight up moans and opens her mouth to him.

Rachel Berry might like to be on top, but she likes it even better when her man takes charge.

He just keeps applying a steady pressure to the back of her neck, holding the rest of his body still while she _writhes _against him. His free hand is itching to graze the side of her boob, trail down her body, and ease its way into her shorts. If he's not _getting there first_ (fucking St. Douche) then he's damn well going to make her see stars. Honestly it just makes him hotter thinking about the fact they're in a parking lot where anyone (including Finn, _especially Finn_) could see them.

"_Noah_…"

She's panting and her eyes are glazed over and he's wondering if Hiram will bail him out when they get charged with public indecency when Rachel ruins _everything_.

"_I'mstillavirgin_."

"What?" Puck's pretty sure he means to say '_What the helling hell_," but between his hard on and the massive amount of kissing they've done in a very short amount of time he just can't fire up his brain enough to be that _articulate_.

"You _can't_ have sex with me in the 7-Eleven parking lot because I'm still a _virgin_, Noah. I _never_ had sex with Jesse. I've never had sex with _anyone._"

The part of his brain that no shit, straight up loves Rachel can't believe that he's got a chance to be the first (and only) person to _ever_ sex her up. The part of his brain that is still pissed off at her for jerking him around for the last couple of months, wonders if this is just another mind fuck in a long, uninterrupted string of _unintentional_ mind fucks. The part of his brain with selective hearing thinks that, maybe, at some point there might be a chance for sex in public. Then there's the part of his brain that registers that he's drunk out of his fucking mind.

That part decides it's a really good time to puke. He misses Rachel by inches.

* * *

Puck might not know how he _got_ to the convenience store but he sure as hell knows how he _got_ home.

Rachel drives with the same pinched look on her face Shelby got when Puck mentioned that he (and Quinn) would be really appreciative if she'd occasionally send him (them) pictures of Beth. Of course, he follows up by reminding her that he's got _absolutely no problem_ with filing for custody (which would probably be more of a headache for the former teacher than an actual threat). Blackmail might be illegal, but, it gets great results.

They drive in absolute silence (the irony is not lost on him) and she only has to pull over once so he can puke on the side of the road. He knows that there's no way that's he's getting any more action tonight. If Rachel tells her dads, he just might not be getting action _ever_ (Leroy's scared the fuck out of him since the sixth grade).

When they make it back to his house, she clears out the bathroom, and lays down a towel for him to lay down on and rolls up another towel as a makeshift pillow (he briefly wonders when she got so good at taking care of drunk people). While he's puking his guts up, she's cleaning up downstairs (409 really cuts through dried cum and the smell of spilled Jack Daniels). When Rachel finally returns, her shoes are off and she's carrying a glass of water. She stays with him all night (apparently she's really serious about not letting _anyone_ choke on their own vomit and die) and talks about how she's got a _plan_ and how she's going to _fix everything_ and how she's so _fucking happy _that he didn't rob the 7-Eleven.

Neither one of them talks about the fact that, once again, Puck's helped another one of Finn's girlfriends cheat on him.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I've been carrying around that confrontation in the 7-Eleven parking lot in my head for weeks (even before I started to write this story). I never really intended to write any part of this story from Puck's point of view, but, I couldn't get that scene out of my head and quickly realized there was no way I could do it justice from Rachel's point of view. So Puck managed to worm his way into taking over.

My goal was pretty simple, do justice to Puck and Puckleberry smut; I feel pretty good on both counts. Hopefully this will tide you all over for a little while, I may not be able to update while I'm home visiting my parents. While I will try, regular updates should continue sometime after January 8th.


	8. Sick of the Sleepless Nights

**Author's Note:** Without giving too much away, this chapter ended up being a complete and total surprise. I also have no control over what Santana does.

On another note, it was pointed out to me that Sam didn't join glee until "Duets." My excuse, the last chapter really needed a dose of confused!Sam (that and I wasn't paying attention). Thank God this is AU.

Anyway, I love you guys and I hope you enjoy this latest chapter.

**In Treatment**

_**Chapter 7: Sick of the Sleepless, Never Ending Nights**_

* * *

_Many of us crucify ourselves between two thieves – regret for the past and fear of the future._

_**Fulton Oursler**_

* * *

When Rachel rolls out of bed Friday morning, she doesn't even have to look at her desk calendar to know it's going to be a bad day. The skin on her lower back and thighs is already itching, a precursor to nervous hives, and her stomach is rebelling at the ghost of dinner the night before. Pavlov couldn't have trained her better; Rachel knows nothing good happens on October 8th.

Seven years ago, Eli Puckerman skipped town. Before he left, he emptied the Puckerman's joint bank account, broke his son's arm, and threw his wife (who was four months pregnant at the time) down the stairs. By the time the cops caught up with him, he was already shacked up with a woman in Des Moines (Noah's current stepmom). In court, the unemployed (_drunken, degenerate_) construction worker demanded spousal support.

Since she was nine years old, Rachel has prayed every night that Eli Puckerman would die a slow and painful death. Preferably in a fire.

It wasn't until the fall when they were twelve going on thirteen (almost a year since their _break up_) that Rachel starts to notice Noah's increasingly erratic behavior (to be fair, she put a lot of energy into pretending he dropped off the face of the Earth). He breaks into the JCC and sneaks (_Gentile_) girls in, sets fires in the trash cans at the junior high, and pummels anyone who looks at him _the wrong way_. On the three year anniversary of his father's departure, Noah throws Jacob Ben-Israel into a dumpster for the first time.

A week after his _Bar Mitzvah_, Rachel gets summoned to the hospital when Noah busts his hands up beating the fuck out of her date to the homecoming game. She doesn't say a word the entire time she sits in the uncomfortable plastic chair, even though she desperately wants to say _thank you_. After that no one tries to flip up her skirt or grope her in the hallways between classes. Jacob's the only one with the audacity to _look at her funny_; it's no surprise he consistently gets thrown into dumpsters and tipped over in port-a-potties.

Still, the fact of the matter is that they aren't friends anymore. The only connection she has to him is awkward conversations in temple and when his mom calls, _frantic_ but _resigned_, pleading with Rachel to sit with her son in the hospital. Then there was last year, when they fucked up everything _so bad_ trying to make Finn and Quinn jealous, and he shut her out just as quickly as he let her in.

Rachel knows that this weekend is going to be the worst one yet and a lot of that falls on her head.

The rest of the week following Noah's serenade, Rachel lays low. She sticks by Kurt, briefly wondering if their new co-dependence is healthy, and avoids everyone else. Finn looks confused (constipated) _all the damn time_, Quinn keeps glaring at her, and Santana keeps alternately threatening her with bodily harm and touching her in _really inappropriate places_. Then there's Noah; his face set in a permanent scowl and his fists clenched so hard that his knuckles are white. She spends a lot of time dodging Tina, which seems really mean but is also really necessary for her sanity, and is thankful that everyone else just ignores the slow progression of crazy. Even _Mercedes_.

Before school starts on Friday, she's already canceled with Dr. Robinson and told her dads she's skipping temple (again). She knows Dr. Robinson is worried about her skipping out on an appointment (especially after his big speech from the week before) but there's no way she can drive to Columbus, much less sit through a session, without wondering when (not if) the call from Ava's going to come in. Her dads are a little more understanding, no surprise there, and her daddy's already cleared his schedule to make sure there's plenty of time to deal with Noah.

There's a sinking feeling in her stomach. She's pretty sure this is the year he tops himself and gets into so much trouble there's no option _but_ juvie. Rachel's not even sure if she should try and stop it. Then she thinks about him in juvie, surrounded by guys that are bigger and meaner and much more fucked up, and it's all that she can do to force herself to go to school.

* * *

By the time she gets home, Rachel's already downed three Red Bulls (on an empty stomach). Her dads aren't home (Daddy's still in court and Dad's delivering a baby) and her hands are shaking every time she checks her phone (even though no one's called). She can't sit around and wait without going completely and totally fucking crazy (padded rooms and restraints), so, she changes into her favorite workout clothes and hops on the elliptical.

She's sweating her eyebrows off (figuratively, not literally, thank you) when her phone finally beeps.

Even if she were one to use text speak (Rachel believes in using complete sentences and correct punctuation even over the phone), the texts Noah sends her wouldn't make any sense. It's obvious he's drunk, which is _no_ surprise, and she's not even sure he's talking to _her_ considering it seems like there's two _completely different_ conversations going on. If she squints really hard and sounds everything out loud, Rachel can come to the conclusion that he's horny _and_ pissed off. The list of people that he's pissed off just continues to grow: his dad, Quinn, Shelby, Finn, and, of course, her. It's the last message, though, that makes Rachel sick to her stomach.

'_brb baby. g2 steal atm. bust me out l8r?'_

She briefly considers calling her daddy (Hey, Noah's going to rob an ATM, not sure if I'm going to stop him in time. Love you!) but quickly rules that out. _Santana's_ the next person on her call list (yes, it's snowing in the second circle now) but Rachel's pretty sure that would somehow devolve into a threesome and she doesn't want to lose her virginity to _NoahandSantana_. Plus, Santana's _almost_ as unstable as Noah, so, it's not like she's going to make anything better. Kurt's dad is still touch and go, even though he's finally awake, and she's not sure Tina would be able to keep her mouth shut.

So, she does the only thing that makes sense – she starts running to the ATM closest to her house, which just so happens to be outside the 7-Eleven. The shorts-sports bra-too big shirt combo isn't meant to be out in public, but she's in too much of a hurry to change. With Noah, a minute can mean the difference between the kind of situation you laugh about later and the kind of situation that lands you in front of a judge.

She's crying before she even hits her driveway. She hates herself for it (it seems like she's constantly crying lately) and she can't make herself stop.

Rachel sees Noah before he sees her, but she keeps jogging like he doesn't exist. She bends down at the waist and touches her toes in order to take a better look out of the corner of her eye. He's swaying slightly with every step he takes and, even drunk, he looks like he's on a mission. When he's _finally _noticed her, Rachel stands up, wipes off her face, and forces out her biggest and brightest smile. Even though she _knows _it's not fooling _anyone_, she can't help but try.

Her thoughts are so jumbled she's not quite sure what she wants to do. Part of her wants to yell at him for being such a stupid, selfish asshole and part of her just wants to make everything better. All she has ever wanted to do is make him happy and she's figured out (took long enough) that all she's done since the sixth grade is make things worse. _Together_ they're an unstoppable force of Jewish ingenuity and power. _Apart_, however, they're just two broken, lonely people.

Dr. Robinson would probably say that they went after Finn and Quinn because _outwardly_ they were perfect together. That they just wanted to be part of something beautiful and whole. Rachel would probably say that Dr. Robinson is _right on the money_. Of course, it's not something she's likely to admit out loud.

By the time she reaches Noah, Rachel's pretty much decided on her plan of action. She tries for calm, cool, and collected but only succeeds on that front for about a sentence. Maybe _half_ a sentence. Even though it's not part of the plan, she pretty quick to start yelling, stomping, and wildly gesturing because it's the only thing that's keeping her from crying. The more she yells, the more things develop a reddish haze, and pretty soon she's not really concentrating on anything besides the sound of her own voice.

Then Noah grabs her by the shoulders. Any coherent (or semi-coherent) thought floats out from her ears and up into the night sky. His touch has always been electric and now is no exception, even when she wants to kick his ass. Since she can't do that, she resorts to poking him in the chest; she just wants to remind him (and herself) that she means business.

And then he presses her in between his body and his mother's car. She's _just aroused enough_ to ease out of pissed and into frustrated (mad frustrated _not _sexually frustrated). She wants to fight with him and he's making it really, really, _really _difficult. To make matters worse, it doesn't take long before he starts talking – which he's done an uncharacteristically lot of lately.

He makes her heart hurt. He opens his mouth and it feels like her heart is breaking into a million little pieces. He _keeps talking_ and suddenly he's discussing masturbating while thinking about _her_ which is made only more disturbing when he segues into talking about his whole fucked up family situation. And then Noah drops the bomb. It's not exactly a _surprise_ that he wants to be with her (the two of them are about as obvious as a dog begging for table scraps), Rachel just never expected him to be so _upfront _about it.

She wants to say about a million things (all at once) but before she can manage to say _any_ of them, he's kissing her.

_Hard_.

Rachel might be a virgin, but, she's known for a while that there's some kind of misfire between her pain and pleasure centers. The times she wanted Jesse _the most_ had nothing to do with sweet kisses, soulful glances, and prissy lingerie; it was when he held her down and _made it hurt a little_ that she wanted him to rip off her clothes. She was smart enough not to say anything, especially since the rough kisses always followed one of their stupid fights, and he was always too embarrassed by his behavior to realize he wasn't _hurting_ her.

There's a reason she always takes control with Finn.

Its more teeth than lips when he kisses her and it almost _hurt hurts_ but not enough to keep her from opening her mouth and moaning. Even though she might taste blood (just a little) he's gripping her neck just right and holding himself so still and the _only thing_ she's thinking about is the fact that they're about to have sex up against his mother's car. About the time she's contemplating _his hand _in _her pants_ that two things dawn on her, to her credit, one of them involves Finn.

Noah vomits shortly after she explains that she's still a virgin. She's pretty sure it's because of the amount of alcohol he's consumed and not because of her revelation.

* * *

Somehow, they make it to his house in one piece. She considers it a fucking miracle.

Rachel gets him set up in the bathroom (spending the summer before sophomore year with her cousins in New York gave her a new appreciation for taking care of drunk people) and makes a couple of phone calls while she gathers up cleaning supplies. Ava sounds tired but relieved that her son's not dead in a ditch and Daddy just tells her to hide the car keys. Of course, neither one of them knows that the kitchen looks like it's survived a frat party (or a porno shoot) and she has no desire to explain that she's scrubbing cum off of the _ceiling_.

Honestly, she's not sure how it got there.

In the end, she does the only thing she _can do_, she lets Noah curl up in her lap when he's not puking his brains out and whispers promises and plans for hours on end.

At some point, the drunk sick evolves into real sick. She spends her whole weekend helping Noah get up close and personal with the toilet. It really, really, _really _sucks.

* * *

By the time Monday rolls around, Rachel's running on about eight hours of sleep for the _whole weekend_. She'd like to blame sleep deprivation for what happens next, but, really, it's her own damn fault for letting her guard down. Rachel's walking to Pre-Calc when she sees a red and white and black blur out of the corner of her eye. Before she knows it, Santana's got her slammed into the lockers. About the time that the Cheerio's lips are _thisclose_ to her own, Rachel is only starting to comprehend the volatility of the situation. She's pretty sure Santana would have no problem kissing her before killing her. That is _not_ the kind of pain that turns her on.

"What the fuck, Midget? I thought I made myself pretty damn clear."

Rachel wants to answer but Santana's (surgically enhanced) breasts are pressed up against her own and, as straight as Rachel is, it's pretty distracting.

"I…"

"_You_ didn't break up with Finn like _I_ told you to. No, you spent _all fucking weekend_ playing house with Puck. I didn't peg you for _stupid_, Midget."

At this point, she's so confused that she decides sarcasm is the best way to diffuse the situation. Rachel's pretty sure she's two seconds from dying, so, it's not like there's a whole hell of a lot to lose.

"I am _so sorry_ that your plans were interrupted by the _absolute hell_ that's pretty much par for the course on October 8th. While you were probably planning the various ways to seduce Finn after our _inevitable break up_, I was cleaning up drunk vomit _and _flu vomit. I'm exhausted and well aware that my life pretty much sucks. Also, you're a fucking bitch and need to learn _boundaries_."

The hallway's pretty empty, Santana planned well, but the bell's about to ring and people are starting to stare as they make their way to class. Rachel doesn't understand why _no one_ is pulling Santana off of her but it probably has something to do with the hope that a cat fight will turn into a violent make out session. Even if Santana did take a shank to her, they still probably wouldn't care enough to pull her off.

Even Kurt would worry about getting blood on his Louis Vuitton shoulder bag.

"I'm going to have to do _everything_, aren't I? Just stop being such a stupid bitch, follow my lead and maybe Finn won't have to find out why you suddenly love the 7-Eleven."

Santana pulls back, gently pats Rachel's cheek, and skips off to class. There are no words to describe the level of confusion that she's reached. Even worse, she's still on time for Pre-Calc.

* * *

She's a paranoid mess when she slips into the choir room. Kurt takes one look at her (hair up in a messy bun, sweat pants, and dark circles under her eyes), clucks his tongue, and pats the back of the seat in front of him. Rachel _knows_ he's got some kind of torture planned that involves smoothing the tangles out of her hair and, quite frankly, she doesn't give a damn. At least he hasn't said anything about the old Ohio State t-shirt she's wearing.

It isn't until Noah and Finn walk through the door together that her stomach roils

Neither one is dead nor dying, so, she's pretty sure Finn doesn't know she played the part of "Adulterous Whore A" over the weekend. There's a small part of her that wants to blurt out _everything_ but that part is overruled by the large part that remembers the whole babygate fiasco. She doesn't want Noah to take a beating just because he was drunk and she was too weak to stop things before they _almost _went too far.

Then everything goes to hell.

Finn sits on her right and takes her limp hand. Noah sits on her left and puts his hand on her thigh. Before Kurt can distract himself from the mess that is her hair, Finn's decides to open his mouth. It effectively bumps the tension up from a six to off the charts. Rachel just wants to die.

"So, what backroom deal did Mr. Berry have to make to keep you out of juvie? I heard the old warehouse on Elizabeth caught fire; didn't think you were still on an arson kick."

It's funny because Rachel _knows_ Noah had nothing to do with the fire on Elizabeth Street. She knows because, when the fire started, she was rubbing Noah's back and holding a wet washcloth against his neck.

The muscle in Noah's jaw is twitching like crazy and he's gripping her thigh hard enough that she's pretty sure he's going to leave bruises. Rachel knows she needs to do something (like get the fuck out of the choir room and move to Tibet) but she's literally being held down by Finn and Noah. Kurt's still as a statue behind her and she's pretty sure everyone else has their phones out, ready to record the inevitable drama. The only thing that's keeping things from going from _simple clusterfuck_ to _complete and total clusterfuck_ is the fact that Santana hasn't shown up.

Then two things happen: Finn opens his mouth and Santana bursts into the room.

"You really need to get your fucking hands off my girlfriend."

"You really need to tell your girlfriend that I _fucked you_."

Noah doesn't move, although he slightly loosens his grip, and Finn lets go of her hand like he's been burned. It's not long before Santana and _Finn_ are fighting; she's playing the part of "Angry Latina en Español" to perfection and he's yelling so hard that the cords in his neck are bulging. Rachel just closes her eyes and prays that Mr. Shue shows up soon; she's pretty sure she'd trade an eternity of Journey covers for one well placed interruption.

All that she can make out from Santana and Finn's argument is that Santana's a _fucking bitch _(not a liar apparently) and Finn's a _fucking pussy_. And because she can't take it any longer, Rachel straightens up and decides to stop being such a baby.

"I couldn't tell you I love you because I'm in love with Noah." The young man in question is holding tight to the back of her t-shirt like it's a life line and Rachel's just thankful he hasn't left the room yet.

"Even I didn't need a therapist to figure that out, _Midget_." Santana looks proud (at what, Rachel can't quite figure out) and straightens out her pony tail. "But, do you really think this was the best place for that little revelation?"

"Have you fucked him yet?" Finn's question follows Santana's so closely that it takes Rachel a couple of seconds to register what he's saying. "I mean, it's not like there's anything holding you back since you already lost it to St. James."

Noah doesn't even say anything. He just jerks up out of his seat, shrugs off Kurt when the smaller boy tries to grab the back of _his_ shirt, rears his fist back, and starts punching the shit out of Finn. It's Azimio all over again, only this time it's two boys she cares (cared) about. It isn't until she registers Kurt's arms around her waist that she realizes the only reason she hasn't flung herself into the fray is because he's holding her in place.

And then Santana picks up a music stand and hits both of them with it. Not once, not twice, but _three times_.

"Hudson," she barks out his name while channeling Sue Sylvester at her most evil, "if you _ever_ want to see me naked again, you will get the fuck off the floor and stop getting hit like a bitch. Puckerman, sit your ass down before your baby mama calls the cops." Honestly, Rachel's expecting violence when Santana finally turns around and looks at her. "You don't follow direction well, do you, Midget?" Then she winks, grabs Finn by the elbow, and flounces towards a couple of empty seats in the back.

If someone told Rachel that the world had tilted on its axis, she wouldn't be surprised in the least.

Sam and Mr. Shue walk into the choir room moments later. Everyone pretends that Finn's face and Noah's hands aren't bleeding. All Rachel can do is wish that she'd taken ten minutes over the weekend to break up with Finn. Santana may be evil, but, she's also effective _and _punctual.

Glee gets a billion times more awkward when Mr. Shue announces they're teaming up for duets.

Rachel's positive it _can't possibly_ get _more awkward_ and then Santana makes it happen by yelling out, "I've got dibs on the midget. I'm winning me some Breadsticks, bitches." When Noah starts to argue, she just shoots him a cutting look and tells him, "You can go be all _fabulous_ with Hummel; the midget's _mine_."

Rachel spends the rest of practice praying _and_ wondering if Santana is ever going to use her name. Noah doesn't stop touching her until she's safely home. Finn sends her half a dozen voicemails, each increasingly more desperate. Kurt sends her a rather ominous text demanding _girl talk_ ASAP. It's Santana's text though that takes the cake.

'_Take Me or Leave Me, unless you've got a better idea_._ Lesbians = breadsticks._'

She's pretty sure, by the end of the week, she's going to have a one way ticket to Israel. New York is _way too close_ to Ohio.

* * *

**Author's Note: **So, that didn't go exactly as planned. Honest. While Santana has been steadily forcing herself to become more and more of an important character, this wasn't what was supposed to happen. I do hope you enjoyed Rachel's recounting of the parking lot scene and didn't mind too much that a fair amount of the last chapter was retold from her POV. I realize there are quite a few plot holes to fill, especially regarding Finn/Rachel and Puck/Rachel – I will be addressing them, promise.

Also, 'Take Me or Leave Me' will probably happen unless you guys have a better idea. I'm not sure if there _is _a better idea.


	9. Nothing Else I Can Say

**Author's Note: **I know I say this a lot, but, it bears repeating: I love you guys. Sorry that this chapter has taken forever; I'm still battling some sort of bug and NyQuil really slows down the writing process. Hopefully once I get better I can start churning out more regular updates.

**In Treatment**

_**Chapter 8: Nothing Else I Can Say (Take Me or Leave Me)**_

* * *

_Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional._

_**M. Kathleen Casey**_

* * *

Rachel doesn't need to talk to Dr. Robinson to figure out that ignoring Finn isn't a long term solution. Santana may have _fixed_ everything with a combination of carefully placed statements and controlled violence, but, that doesn't mean that there still aren't things to be resolved. She might be over Jesse _now_, but, she still remembers how bad it hurt when he left the way he did.

She might not _love_ Finn and she might not _like_ him all the time, but, he deserves better than the Rachel Berry equivalent of a hijacked auditorium, a toilet papered choir room, and an egging in the parking lot. He wasn't the perfect boyfriend, but, it wasn't like she was setting the girlfriend gold standard.

The problem is, of course, is that it's hard to stop avoiding Finn (considering that's become standard operating procedure for the last couple of weeks).

It's midnight on Tuesday before she finally listens to his voicemails. At first he's angry ('_What the hell have you been doing with Puck?_'), then he's confused ('_I don't know what's going on; just please call me._'), and he eventually works his way up to pleading ('_Just give me a chance to explain and I can make this all better again._'). By the time she gets through the last one, it's almost one o'clock in the morning. Rachel's nowhere near sleep, so, she decides to give him a call.

Finn sounds sleepy (_normal people_ generally sound that way before dawn when school's in session) but relieved that she's finally decided to pick up the phone.

"I know it's late, but, do you want to meet up at Schoonover Park?"

She's half convinced that he's going to yell at her and hang up. When he says 'Okay, I'll meet you there in ten,' like she's made a completely ordinary request, Rachel doesn't quite believe him. Since she's still wearing her clothes from school, all she has to do is stuff her feet into a pair of UGGs and put on a coat. She leaves her dads a note on the kitchen table, just in case they wake up and she's not home yet, and sends Noah a text before sneaking out the front door to her car.

'_I couldn't sleep; going to go talk to Finn at the park._'

She's surprised when she gets anything back from him, figuring he'd either be asleep or pissed off at her for meeting with her _ex-boyfriend_ in the middle of the night. However, it's pretty obvious (if it wasn't already) that she's stupid for this boy when his text leaves warm fuzzy feelings in her stomach.

'_UR sexting sucks. No 3somes with S unless Im #3._'

Finn's truck is already in the parking lot when Rachel pulls up and she immediately starts doubting her decision to arrange the impromptu meeting. It takes all the willpower she possess to park her car, unbuckle her seat belt, and head towards the swing set that Finn is standing beside. Before she gets there, she decides she's going home if he suggests pushing her in a swing.

Even in the dim lighting, Rachel can see that Finn's sporting a black eye and a busted lip. There's a part of her that wants to apologize, but, it's overridden by the bigger part of her that believes he deserves it for being an asshole.

"I only slept with Santana once and you were with Jesse."

As far as opening lines go, it's pretty awful.

"I figured as much. I mean, if you were still having sex with her, she probably would have worded things differently when she was making her little announcement."

When in doubt, Rachel will _always _fall back on wordy sentences. Even so, there really aren't enough words to fill the awkward silence. Her history with Finn might not be as long as her history with Noah, but, it's still pretty complicated. They might have had a chance if there was no Noah and no Quinn; as it stands, they were doomed before they even began.

Their entire relationship is based on so much _wrong_ it isn't even funny.

"Finn, I just…I didn't mean for things to get so out of control." She can feel the tears welling up in her eyes and she's honestly not sure if they're fueled by guilt or frustration. Either way, she's _really_ tired of crying. "This…this thing we _had_ just isn't good anymore. For either one of us."

"Rachel…_Rach_…don't say that. We can fix this. I know we can. I'll tell Santana to back off and you'll stop being around Puck and things will go back to the way they were."

"I just got Noah back after _years_ of not having him in my life. Even if I _wanted_ to fix things, I _couldn't_ drop out of his life again. Besides, quite frankly, _the way things were _sucked."

If he weren't so damn tall, Rachel's sure that Finn's jaw would have hit the ground. As it is, he's doing a really good impression of a fish out of water. They've technically been together for six months and this is the most they've said to each other about their relationship. Considering he's only slightly more loquacious than Noah (in normal circumstances), most of that is her fault.

They stand there for the longest time, her fingering the chain of the nearest swing and him staring up at the sky as if all the answers are there. The adrenaline is starting to wear off enough that she's feeling the cold and her teeth are beginning to chatter. The whole absurd situation is a perfect metaphor for their whole screwed up relationship.

"Can you just tell me one thing? Did you sleep with either one of them? It's not my place, _I know that_, but I think you owe me that much."

As far as questions go, it's a pretty easy one. Of all the questions he could have asked, it's honestly the easiest one to answer. It doesn't mean it doesn't piss Rachel off. After all of the things that have happened in the last six months, the fact that Finn has decided _sex_ is the crux of the matter is extremely insulting.

"No." The disembodied voice of Dr. Robinson is telling her that's _all _she _has_ to say and that it's okay to walk away now. Then there's Kurt, telling her to be coy about it and Santana, telling her to hurt him. Finally, there's a beep from her pocket which is probably signaling that Noah's five seconds away from hopping in his truck and complicating everything with a bunch of teenage boy posturing.

"I think, fundamentally, you're a good guy. You're just not _my_ good guy."

Rachel walks away then, focusing on the way her footsteps sound as she heads towards the parking lot. There's probably a lot left that they could say to each other, but, there's really nothing _important_ left to say. In the end, the glee club is in for an uncomfortable couple of months and Finn's probably going to go out of his way to ignore her and Noah. Still, after reading (and replying to) Noah's text, Rachel reminds herself that it's all worth it.

'_U ok? B there in 5 if you need help with the body._'

For the first time in several days she finally feels like she could sleep and sleep well.

* * *

Even though she's only running on a couple hours of sleep, Rachel feels like a person again. She's ditched her Ohio State shirt and sweats for a purple sweater dress and has paired it with her black "Maureen" boots. She has a feeling that it's going to be a hard sell convincing Santana to play the part of Joanne but considering she was _born _to play the part of Maureen, she's ready for a fight.

Basically, Santana's not going to know what hit her.

While Rachel is stuffing the rest of her Maureen costume in her locker, Kurt rounds the corner with a look of pure determination etched on his face. As much as she enjoys having him back in her life, the boy can be a little hard to handle sometimes. This can be evidenced by the fact that he doesn't even ask, just starts rifling through her locker until he pulls out her makeup bag.

"Diva, you get points for wardrobe, but, _please_ stop walking out of the house without any makeup on."

She figures if he's going to get his way eventually, she might as well yield and get it over with. So, Rachel just stands perfectly still while he hides the evidence of poor nutrition (honestly, she's pretty much been living on Red Bull), lots of crying, and lack of sleep. And all she's really thinking about while he's doing it is how nice it is to not have to worry if he's going to turn her into a _sad clown hooker_.

Kurt, by some miracle of God, decides to apply the finishing touches before opening his mouth.

"So, what was so important that you needed to drag Finn out of the house at one in the morning?"

Now it's Rachel's turn to do an impression of a fish out of water. There's about three seconds where she's seriously wondering if he's psychic or telepathic before Kurt rolls his eyes and picks an invisible piece of lint off of her shoulder.

"Dad and Carole are still living in the Stone Age. It doesn't take much to listen in on a landline conversation." Kurt fixes her with a steely glare and Rachel can envision him in an interrogation room staring down a prep with the same resolve. "_Anyway_, I guess I shouldn't be expecting a _Finchel reunion_ anytime soon?"

She scans the hallway quickly and, when she doesn't see anyone, shakes her head. "No, that ship has sailed. Noah and I really haven't talked about things since _Hurricane Santana_ happened but I'd hazard a guess that we're headed in a very Puckleberry direction." Rachel's a little shocked when Kurt bounces up and down and squeals a little (not loudly, but, it's not typical _dignified Kurt_). After all, she just dumped his almost stepbrother partly because she's in love with his best friend.

"Look, we're friends again and friends…" Something catches Kurt's eye out of Rachel's field of vision, causing him to trail off. She's about to wrinkle his carefully tied scarf and demand he pay attention to _her_ when Karofsky is suddenly there and standing beside them.

"Am I interrupting faggy time?" Before she can stop him, he's plucking at the neckline of her dress and stretching it out towards him. "You're wearing the right _color_ for it." She's taken self defense (as a condition of her eventual move to New York) and she knows _what to do_, it's just a matter of making herself _do it_. While she stands there frozen in place, Kurt reaches out and slaps the jock's hand away.

"_Honestly_? You're seriously going to touch _Puckerman's girl_?"

Karofsky stares at her for a moment (she wants to remind him what happened to Azimio) before turning and stepping _way too far_ into Kurt's personal space. Kurt, who just bravely defended her seconds before, flinches when the taller boy gets in his face.

"Last time I checked, _you_ weren't anyone's _girl_." Things have gone from bad afterschool special on bullying to bad straight-on-gay porn so quickly that it makes Rachel's head spin again. Karofsky's got Kurt pushed up against the lockers with one hand and his other is reared back in a fist. The threat of violence is so thick that Rachel's not really thinking when she lifts up her knee and slams the heel of her boot into the instep of Karofsky's foot.

He jerks back, wincing, with a look of disbelief written all over his face. A dress and boots aren't really great sparring gear, but Rachel finds herself falling back into a defensive stance when the first warning bell rings. People are starting to trickle into the hallway and it's seconds (but feels like _hours_) before Karofsky's shaking his head and walking away.

"What in the world…" Rachel's got a million questions but Kurt just holds up his hand.

"Diva, _please_, just walk me to French."

So, she does the only thing she can do; she loops her arm through Kurt's and walks him to French.

* * *

The day drags on and on and _on_. She's self conscious of her stretched out neckline and every time a locker slams too loudly, she flinches a little bit. She wonders how long the bullying has been going on (and why no one's noticed it). She also wonders if she was imagining the weird _tension_ that accompanied all the violence. It worries her that while she might be _safe_ (courtesy of the imaginary '_Property of Puck_' stamp across her forehead), Kurt really doesn't have anyone to protect him.

Finn might be up to go toe to toe with the jocks in a candy red shower curtain (with the rest of the team backing him up) but she doubts he'd risk getting into a fight with Karofsky if it meant getting seriously hurt or being kicked off the team. Rachel knows Noah would have Kurt's back if she asked him too, but, she doesn't want him getting into any more trouble than necessary. One day he's going to hit the wrong person and get brought up on assault charges.

And then there's _lunch_.

Noah pulls her down into his lap as soon as they get to the gleeks' table. They don't do anything _untoward_ (although she does try to keep from wiggling around to keep the temptation to a minimum) and no one says anything. Mercedes keeps sneaking peeks in their direction, as if waiting for them to start sucking face in the middle of picking through their lunch. Quinn glares at them for a little bit, but, Rachel finally meets the glare with one of her own and the blonde eventually backs off. Everyone else (with the exception of a missing Santana and Finn) just acts as if Finchel wasn't a reality twenty four hours before.

Halfway through lunch a thoroughly disheveled Finn (_seriously_, he looks like he met with gale force winds) and a slightly more pulled together Santana make their way over to the table. When Finn opens his mouth, Santana just snaps her fingers and does a pretty spot on impression of Cesar Millan. It's a little _scary_ how quickly Finn shuts his mouth and sits down. Rachel wants to get up out of respect for her failed relationship and out of common courtesy but Noah just wraps his arm firmly around her waist.

She gets the message pretty quick – he doesn't want her going anywhere. If yesterday in glee was any indication, Rachel's got a feeling that Noah's going to be fairly _hands on_. Finn either has to get used to it (and fast) or avoid them all together. Truthfully, it's not much different from after Sectionals last year when Finn was with her one minute and all over _SantanaandBrittany_ the next.

Santana and Noah bicker for the rest of lunch, which makes it difficult for anyone else to carry on a conversation. Mostly it revolves around her stealing a couple of his fries, him calling her a bitch, and her stealing a couple more fries. Rachel tries not to be jealous but the comfortable banter they've got going on, combined with the fact that she _knows_ they've had _lots of sex_, makes it difficult for her to pay attention to anything else.

Finn catches her eye once and she's pretty sure the emotions playing on his face are the same ones that are churning away in her brain. Thankfully, she's an _accomplished actress_ and can keep that shit bottled up. Still, when she catches Quinn's little smirk out of the corner of her eye, Rachel almost flies off the handle. She knows Noah doesn't really think he's doing anything wrong (and, really, he's not); more importantly, whatever's going on between him and Santana is probably a pissing contest between the two of them regarding one _Rachel Barbara Berry_. The problem is, she's only full of confidence on the outside. There's a teeny tiny part of her (the same part that sometimes considers a nose job) that is just waiting for the other shoe to drop and Noah to leave her for someone prettier and more talented. After all, Finn didn't want her until she was his _last option_ and Jesse dumped her ass as soon as he was able to.

She has to force herself not to bolt when the bell rings. Instead, Rachel carefully gets up from Noah's lap and transfers all of her trash onto his tray. He's still so engrossed in the latest round of name calling (a good way to send her insecurities into overdrive) that it takes a moment before she can get him to turn around to face her. Deciding desperate times call for desperate measures, Rachel grabs the front of his shirt and pulls him forward.

Rachel kisses Noah with every ounce of sexual frustration that's been building since the kiss in the parking lot. She nips at his bottom lip until he _finally_ opens his mouth and then proceeds to totally dominate him. When he tries to gain some control over the situation (namely by bringing his hand up to rest just below her ass), Rachel pulls away and bites his chin just hard enough to make him jolt.

"If you ignore me _again_, it won't be your _chin_ I'll be _biting_."

She ignores Noah's glazed eyes, Santana's heavy breathing, the questioning looks of her team mates, and the stares of just about everyone in the cafeteria. If it wasn't obvious before, there's no doubting that _her_ _Noah_ has '_Property of Rachel Berry'_ stamped across his ass. Santana's laughter rings in her ears all the way to AP English.

* * *

Glee practice gets cut short so they can practice their duets. Rachel doesn't even wait for Mr. Shue to formally dismiss them before she's grabbing her bags and running off to the auditorium. Noah's been wearing a predatory look since lunch (no surprise there) and she's got no desire (that's a total lie) to be cornered by him before she can practice with Santana. Besides, Mr. Shue keeps asking her to rethink _her_ choice of a partner.

She's tired of telling him it's none of his business.

Santana arrives on stage just minutes after Rachel. Before Rachel can even open her mouth, the Latina is rattling off where they should put the mock ice sculpture, what strings her father could pull to get some contractors to build a sturdy staircase, and if it would be possible to bring in a _real pool table_. Although she's not used to being talked over (no one but Santana has ever really tried), Rachel takes it in stride. The benefit of Santana's tirade (girl's really serious about her breadsticks) is Rachel's able to change into her costume before her duet partner has run out of the air.

Two minutes to change is almost an eternity when compared to some of the plays Rachel's been a part of.

"Every single day, I walk down the street, I hear people say baby so sweet…" Her voice cuts Santana off in the middle of her rant about pool table logistics. See, the thing is, Rachel's wanted to be Maureen since she realized there was a Maureen to _be_. It's a role that she would literally _kill_ _someone_ _for_ if necessary. Santana may _identify_ with the character, but, Rachel's got a _passion_ for her.

"…and if you give a damn, take me baby or leave me." When she presses Santana's palms up against her breasts, Rachel pretends that Brad isn't playing away on the keyboard (she's pretty sure he's a piano playing ninja). By the time Rachel's singing about tigers and cages, Santana's just shaking her head and when she belts out "…people would kill to fill your shoes," the other girl is holding up her hand to signal her to stop.

"Okay, _Baby_, I get it. So, are you going to teach me how to play anal retentive…because that's kind of a stretch for me."

Rachel just smirks and shrugs out of her long jacket. "I think you and Joanne will get along just fine."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Whoops! This ran a little longer than I was planning, so, I decided to break it up. There will be more 'Take Me or Leave Me,' promise. One of my biggest pet peeves in glee fics is when authors plunk down big chunks of song lyrics for a character's performance. I get that it's glee and they sing about their feelings and shit, but, it's hard to get it right in type. I'm working hard to get the right balance of lyrics to performance to glee club reactions.

Also, a note on the Kurt/Rachel scene. I wrote it assuming that the bullying has been escalating since the school year began. We saw bits and pieces of it, but, strangely no one on glee really started to notice until after the big kiss. While some people might disagree with me, I think that Karofsky's reaction to Kurt smacking his hand away was pretty spot on.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed. It was a little dialogue heavy (something that I'm always nervous about) but I think it worked out in the end. If anything, it'll help us transition to better things, like a Pezberry duet and maybe some more Puckleberry smut.


	10. I May Be Wrong But You're Wonderful

**Author's Note: **Many apologizes for the lack of updates. My life has been a little ridiculous lately and I keep hitting a wall when it comes to writing. In hopes of working out my writer's block, I jumped on the tumblr bandwagon. If you're interested, you can follow "thesouthway" and get a peak at what goes on inside my head.

**In Treatment**

_**Chapter 9: I May Be Wrong (But I Think You're Wonderful)**_

* * *

_A minute of perfection was worth the effort. A moment was the most you could ever expect from perfection._

_**Chuck Palahniuk**_

* * *

Quality performances don't put themselves together overnight. Broadway casts work for months to get everything just right. In Hollywood, those seemingly effortless movie scenes require numerous takes. Olympic athletes dedicate their lives to winning a gold medal. Coach Sylvester's Cheerios literally work their asses off in order to bring home as many first place trophies as humanly possible throughout the year.

Even McKinley's football team, under Coach Beiste's direction, must put in long hours to keep up their winning streak.

It goes without saying that Rachel can't understand why, if all of this is true, her teammates consistently behave as if they _deserve_ to win _anything_ when they are not willing to _waste_ more than a handful of hours on putting together a performance. They are a good team, full of earnest emotion and raw talent, but if they want to compete against serious contenders (like _Vocal Adrenaline_) then they need to realize that _perfect _practice makes perfect.

When Santana starts complaining about going over the last sequence, where Maureen and Joanne are _finally_ singing _together_, Rachel gets a little annoyed. When the Latina fails to understand the importance of practicing the stair sequence (using the "practice" stairs leading up to the stage), Rachel swears she can feel the blood rushing in her ears. And when Santana starts bitching about how tired and thirsty she is and how pointless rehearsing is when they're already ten times better than everyone else, Rachel snaps.

"You can't _possibly_ believe that you could watch a clip on YouTube a half a dozen times, copy the choreography, practice it once, and be done, did you? First off, we're on _stage_, Santana, and we don't have the luxury of a camera following our every move. You do _know_ that a good performer _always_ keeps her face visible to the audience?"

"Look, _Midget_, I really don't need this shit from you right now."

Rachel snorts because she's pretty sure Santana doesn't _need_ anything from her except for her vocal talents. _Everyone_ knows about Santana's near obsession with breadsticks (they are the quickest way into her spankies) and Rachel's got a _suspicion_ that if Brittany were just a slightly better singer, Santana would have picked her. If she wanted to be treated like a pair of impressive vocal cords with a hot ass, she would have stayed with Finn.

"_I_ really don't need this _attitude_ from _you_." She _knows_ she's being a bitch. She also knows she's not really _that _pissed off at Santana. She's upset because Santana can't take glee as seriously as she takes cheerleading, so her minor anger at the Cheerio gets mixed up with her major anger at Mr. Shue and the glee club and it all boils over before she can stop it.

Instead of walking away, cooling off for a minute, and then speaking to Santana like a sane and rational person, Rachel grabs her trolley bag and marches off the stage. "Let me know when you're ready to take this seriously." She wants to add, '_Let me know when you're ready to stop grabbing my ass every five _minutes' but really doesn't want to go there (like Santana's ever going to stop that). When Santana realizes she's not turning around and is actually _leaving_, the other girl starts screaming at her in Spanish. They are quickly becoming a bad telenovela.

As tempted as she is to translate whatever the hell Santana's saying, Rachel keeps going until she hits the parking lot. It isn't until she's in her car, with the engine started and the radio turned up _loud_, that she remembers she was going to go easy on Santana. Not because she can't keep up, but, because Rachel caught the look on her face when Brittany wheeled Artie up to the gleeks' table at lunch. After all, Santana might be handsy and bitchy and slutty (and have no concept of personal boundaries) but it's pretty obvious she's more than just _in lust _with Brittany. Rachel thinks about going back in and apologizing (it's the right thing to do) but she's already put her car in drive and _honestly_ she thinks Santana deserved it. For the most part anyway.

She takes the long way home because she's so incredibly _pissed off_ and she's convinced if she goes her usual route she'll end up in the parking lot of Mr. Shue's apartment complex (where she'll wait for her opportunity to run him over). Dr. Robinson would probably say that she should talk about her feelings before she ends up doing something destructive (like killing Mr. Shue). Rachel thinks about calling Kurt (who's probably the only one equipped to deal with her diva-sized freak out) but realizes he's probably still trying to convince Noah to be the Fred Astaire to his Judy Garland and she _really_ doesn't want to get involved in that.

By the time she gets to her house, Rachel's convinced herself she's fine. She's bottled all her feelings about glee club back up and is no longer on the verge of hyperventilating. Then she almost rams her car into the back of Noah's truck, which just so happens to be parked in her driveway.

"What the hell, Berry?"

He's leaning up against his truck, looking at her like she's finally lost her damn mind (which she probably has), and all she wants to do is throw herself at him and lick his neck.

"Santana Lopez is a stupid bitch." What she means to say is _'Wanna make out?'_ but when she opens her mouth, that's not what pops out. Noah looks amused, probably because her car is parked and no longer a danger to his truck, and her fingers are itching to tug at his nipple ring or grab his ass or _something_. She doesn't even care that they're in her driveway and that her dads are probably home. It's probably not healthy to mix anger and sexual frustration but she hasn't had a non-self induced orgasm since _Jesse St. Doucheface_ and she keeps thinking back on their kiss in the cafeteria and the way Noah's eyes stalked her all damn day.

He doesn't even _say_ anything, just pushes her up against his truck and fists his hands in her hair. She's moaning (_loudly_) before he even starts nipping at her neck because his whole body is so _hard_ up against hers and she's bracing her hands against his arms (his biceps have _always _been a _huge_ turn on). By the time his mouth slants over hers, she's breathing so hard it's a wonder she hasn't passed out. His mouth is so _hot_ on hers, his teeth pulling at her bottom lip just hard enough to make her gasp, and one hand tightens in her hair while the other skims down her body and cups her breast. Rachel wants to move her hands but feels frozen while Noah's lower body rocks against hers and his thumb brushes back and forth over her cloth covered nipple.

"Oh God, oh God, _oh God_" is the only coherent thing that passes from her lips whenever Noah's move on to another part of her body (her neck, the shell of her ear, her collarbone) and she wonders if dry humping in the middle of her parents' driveway counts as public indecency.

She's so wound up and so _close_ to _exploding_ that it takes her a minute to notice that Noah's not moving against her or kissing her anymore. Then she hears her daddy's voice (it sounds like he's been talking for a while) and it's like she's been doused with a bucket of ice water.

"Noah, Rachel, I would like to think I'm pretty understanding." Since she can't look at her daddy, she looks at Noah with his heavy lidded eyes and swollen lips and wonders how his fly got unzipped. "However, Leroy's about ten seconds from bounding out of the office and putting the fear of God into you." Which is mostly likely code for her six foot three inch dad bounding out of the house with a baseball bat while he threatens to beat the hell out of her boyfriend.

"Daddy…"

It's weird calling her daddy (who will _always_ be her daddy) "Daddy" while she's focusing on the gold flecks in Noah's eyes. She's pretty sure she sees Noah smirk and she can't help but shudder involuntarily.

"Rachel, honey, I think it's time Noah went home." She manages to keep her mouth shut even though she wants to tell him it's about damn time that Noah gave her an orgasm (she's not _that_ open with her dads). "Noah, Leroy and I would love to have you over for dinner sometime. It's nice to see you outside of a hospital room." Her daddy laughs and Noah laughs and she just stands there because this is just _weird_ on so many different levels.

Noah kisses her on the cheek and hops in his truck and her daddy gently pulls her into the house. Her dad finally comes out to stand in the doorway and _glare_ at Noah (even though she _knows_ he's been helping Ava pick out china patterns since they were _six_). So, she forgets about being mad at Santana and glee club and Mr. Shue (and being cock blocked by her dads) and talks about school, homework, and all of her various extracurricular activities. Her dads ignore the fact that she was _officially _with Finn just a couple of days before and she (and her daddy) ignores the fact that her dad walks out of the room to _discreetly_ phone Ava.

* * *

Rachel sleeps pretty well considering her life has become a case study in orgasm denial. When she leaves for school the next morning, her dad is at the kitchen table flipping through wedding magazines and talking on the phone to her Aunt Rhoda. She doesn't say anything (even though it's a little creepy considering they're still in high school) because she knows her daddy will put a stop to it in a couple of days (it won't be long before the creepy factor overrides the cute factor).

Also, it's nice to be able to involve her parents in her life again.

She's not surprised that Noah's _not_ leaning up against her locker (morning football practice) but she is surprised to see Santana, Kurt, and Tina huddled around her locker giggling like Twihards who've happened upon Robert Pattinson and Taylor Lautner making out. Upon closer inspection she realizes they're huddled around Santana's phone watching a replay of her attempt to make phantom Jewish babies with Noah against his truck.

She knows she _should_ be embarrassed but then Tina asks, her voice all breathy, "Is this porn?" to which Santana replies, "I _wish_ this were porn," and Kurt announces her arrival by saying, "Didn't know you had it in you, Slutty McSlutty Pants."

"This is absolutely ridiculous," there's no point in getting embarrassed when it's just going to make them act worse, "besides, I think _Satan_ still holds the Slutty McSlutty Pants title. I was wondering how Noah's fly got unzipped…now I have my answer."

Tina giggles, it's a little stilted since she's been caught red handed, and Kurt fans himself. She seriously hopes he's not going to start fantasizing about another one of her boyfriends but decides, if he is, at least Noah's worthy masturbation material. Santana, who looks more than a little turned on, sashays up to Rachel and wraps an arm around her waist.

"I went over to your house to apologize, Baby, but, you were more than a little preoccupied." Rachel decides to ignore the touching (and the stalking and the fact that Santana _recorded_ them) because apologies rank slightly under orgasms induced by other people, gold stars, and solos on her list of favorite things. "I still really want to sing with you."

Santana's looking at her with big brown eyes and pouty lips and Rachel overlooks the fact that Brittany and Artie are making their way down the hall (she honestly doesn't want to know what's going with that mess) and kisses Santana on the cheek. "Apology accepted, but, I'm going to require more effort in your performance. I don't care dead weight, _Sweetie_."

The spell is broken when Tina starts complaining about Mike's lack of confidence when it comes to singing (not a surprise considering Mr. Shue doesn't seem to believe that any kind of vocal training is necessary). Kurt quickly chimes in about how Noah is an insensitive asshole because he won't sing a gay love song (like that's a _surprise_). Santana tells them they're both idiots (Rachel's a little more diplomatic) and keeps cuddling her even when Artie and Brittany wheel past and keep going.

They all walk Kurt to French, she briefly wonders if he said anything to them about Karofsky, then drop Tina off at Physics, and Santana hangs outside of the Spanish classroom just long enough to wink at Noah (who decided to show up to class) and glare at Mr. Shue. When she flounces away, ponytail bouncing, Rachel wonders if _this_ is what it means to have _friends_.

She decides to hold onto her angry glee club feelings just a little longer. After all, she's pretty sure Dr. Robinson will be excited to talk about something other than Noah for a change. Right now, saving everything for her therapist sounds like a better idea then unloading on friends (who all just happen to be in glee club).

* * *

By the end of the week, Rachel is exhausted. On top of dance class, vocal lessons, homework, and convincing her dad to put away _his_ wedding planner for _her _wedding, she's put in hours of practice time with Santana. It's worth it considering the two of them could probably single handedly bring about _another RENT_ revival.

She's also not the only one who's busy. Noah and Kurt pull off a truly inspiring rendition of Barenaked Ladies, _If I Had a Million Dollars_. Noah plays guitar and Kurt plinks away at the piano and she's not sure how but they both manage to keep a straight face (especially since Noah makes it obvious he's singing to her and Kurt makes it obvious he's singing to anyone _but_ Noah). And then Noah ends it by swinging his guitar to the side, muttering something about same sex loving, and plants a huge smacking kiss on Kurt's forehead.

Rachel finds out later the only reason he didn't _go in for the kill_ was because Kurt confided he'd never been kissed. She more than rewards him for his sensitivity.

Finn and Mercedes' performance is probably the single worst thing to come out of glee since Mr. Shue's dancing. Mercedes has a hard time blending when she's not part of a larger group (she has the kind of voice that is made for solos and bursting out in the middle of a song and seeking out the last spectacular note) and she completely overpowers Finn (who doesn't even sound like he's really trying). Technically, they hit all the right notes but between the strange dancing and the soulful glances and the fact that they're singing _Can You Feel the Love Tonight_, it just comes off as horribly, horribly wrong.

Even Mr. Shue sits there, mouth agape, unable to form any kind of pseudo-compliment. And then he glares at her, as if it's _her fault_ that Finn isn't that great when someone isn't propping him up.

Tina and Mike's duet makes her wish, yet again, that they spent more time in glee working on their vocals. Chang-squared is absolutely adorable; she loves their version of _Sing_ almost as much as the original, but, she wishes Mike felt more comfortable with his singing voice. Especially since Tina looks so happy performing with him. Besides, it would be nice if the guys (excluding Finn and Kurt) felt confident about their singing.

Brittany and Artie don't sing together. Artie glares at Brittany, Brittany stares forlornly at Artie, and Santana just sits back looking triumphant. Rachel's confused because it's not like Santana hasn't screwed her way around McKinley _and_ dated other people (while she had Brittany on the side). As much as she wants to say something, she's not comfortable bringing it up. After all, Santana's her friend (or whatever the hell they are) and Brittany's not and she's still kind of upset at Artie for not trying to talk her out of _Run Joey Run_. Not that she would have listened, but, that's beside the point.

And then there's her duet with Santana.

They're the only ones (besides Noah and Kurt) to utilize the auditorium and she knows that once the curtain comes up that anyone with _any_ knowledge of musicals will recognize the stage set up. They start in the middle of the stage, with the spotlight on Rachel and Santana standing beside her in a white suit that's just a little too _slutty_ for Joanne but otherwise absolutely perfect. She can practically _feel_ Mr. Shue and Mercedes frowning and Kurt smirking; she's pretty sure that everyone else is slightly confused about the staircase (that Santana's dad paid out the ass to have built overnight) right of center and the mock ice sculpture (apparently _SantanaandRachel _have an admirer in the Art Club) a little left and farther back and the pool table just a couple feet from the front of the stage.

You can hear a pin drop in the auditorium when she belts out, "Every single day, I walk down the street, I hear people say baby so sweet…" When she reaches the first chorus, "…and if you give a damn, take me baby or leave me," and places Santana's arms around her so they can dance sweetly, Rachel can feel the gazes of eleven pairs of eyes. It's then that she realizes she's doing more than just trying to win a gift certificate to Breadsticks. She's trying to prove to everyone (especially Mr. Shue) that she can sing with _anyone_ not just _Finn_.

She hears Kurt laugh out loud when she lifts up her shirt, singing "…honey bear are you still my, my, my baby…" and dances around the stage. They finally reach the stairs, with Rachel crawling up on her hands and knees (she knows she just added some material to Noah's _spank bank_), and Santana takes her breath away (again) when she sings, "…you got a prize but don't compromise, you're one lucky baby…" At that point her only thought (besides not missing her notes or her marks) is that she wishes they would have had the time (and money) to put together a more elaborate set.

They finally start making their way around the pool table, finally singing _together together_ for the first time in the performance, "…can't live with them or without them…take me for who I am…" They sound amazing, their voices melding perfectly while they sound angry-sexy, and Santana hits every mark exactly where she's supposed to (Rachel does too, but, that's not much of a surprise).

Santana finally bends over her on the (borrowed) pool table and then they're stalking off to the sound of enthusiastic applause. When Rachel takes Santana's hand to do a little bow at the edge of the stage, she's smiling so hard that it feels like her face might crack.

She keeps smiling, even on the last day when Barbie and Ken (Quinn and Sam) put on the cutest performance (unicorns puking rainbow colored kittens cute) the glee club has probably ever witnessed. Quinn doesn't have a well trained voice (she's breathy and pitchy at times) but she sounds so sweet and _in _love that Rachel can't help but ignore the rough parts and bob her head along with the music. Sam's like a younger (cuter) Finn; he doesn't have a strong voice but it's _nice. _The performance isn't technically strong, but, the way they sing together just makes everyone happy.

Except for Santana, who reaches out and grips Rachel's hand _really hard_ halfway through the blondes' performance. She looks like she's ready to kill someone.

Rachel's not surprised when Quinn and Sam win (although she has a feeling that the vote _had _to be rigged somehow). It just makes things worse when Quinn dips her head and flutters her eyelashes (it makes her look like an angel) and Sam looks like he's just won the high school lottery (which he kind of has except for the whole bitchy born again virgin part).

Just when she's worried Santana's going to do something stupid (like attack Quinn in the middle of the choir room and rip the gift certificate out of her perfectly manicured fingers) the taller girl lets go of her hand to go sit by Brittany (she does, however, glare daggers at Quinn the whole time). Then Noah leans over and trails a line of kisses down her jaw until he settles his lips on the corner of her mouth.

"How about I take you on a date? It's about time I saw _my baby_ all dressed up."

Rachel smiles then and forgets all about Mr. Shue and Quinn and being robbed of her gift certificate because it doesn't matter when she's got Noah (and Santana and Kurt and, sometimes, Tina). But especially Noah. She's still going to stab someone with a rusted piece of broken music stand if she doesn't get any more solos, but this, right now, is just perfect.

She spends her Friday appointment with Dr. Robinson talking and talking and talking about glee (and he mostly just nods and smiles) until the weight on her chest is finally lifted. Then she gets dressed up and Noah drives them to Elida and they eat pancakes at her favorite diner, drink too much coffee, and it's like they're eleven again and thick as thieves (except, this time, she gets to kiss him). Which she does, up against her parents' front door, when he drops her off just before her curfew.

* * *

**Author's Note: **All duets stayed the same except for the obvious ones. _Everyone_ should know how _Can You Feel the Love Tonight_ goes, since it's from the Lion King. If you haven't looked up _Take Me or Leave Me _on YouTube, you should right now (and make sure it's the Idina Menzel/movie version). While you're at it, you can also look up _If I Had a Million Dollars. _When I heard it, I just knew it was for Puck and Kurt.

Anyway! I feel pretty good about this chapter. It took much longer than all the others did to write (I'm still not sure why) but I think it turned out okay. I'll try my hardest not to have such a gap between this chapter and the next; especially since the next one will be covering the Rocky Horror Glee Show (with Puck so you know it's going to be awesome).


	11. Off the Chain

**Author's Note: **I had originally planned to start and finish the RHGS arc in a chapter; this was supposed to be that chapter. Then I tried writing that chapter about three different times (rewriting each chapter at least once) and decided that wasn't happening. Hopefully this chapter will make up for the lack of updates (Puck and Rachel talk out things and things get pretty smutty).

Love you guys! Don't give up on me; we'll get to Nationals eventually.

**In Treatment**

_**Chapter 10: (Your Love is) Off the Chain**_

* * *

_All the art of living lies in a fine mingling of letting go and holding on._

_**Havelock Ellis**_

* * *

Rachel spends all of Saturday staring at her phone, willing it to ring. It's silent while she gets ready for ballet, while she drives to and from ballet, and the entire time she's soaking in the tub after ballet. At some point she's downstairs getting a glass of water and nearly breaks her neck racing up the stairs when she hears the faint buzz signaling an incoming text.

It's just Kurt, asking if she's finished her assignment for English.

While she's sitting cross legged on her bed, wishing for the millionth time that her psychic abilities extended into telepathy, she realizes how stupid she's being. After all, she's _Rachel Barbara Berry_, a modern, independent woman and there's nothing stopping her from picking up the phone and calling her (asshole) boyfriend. She just doesn't want to call and him not pick up.

_That_ will hurt more than him not calling in the first place.

She busies herself with homework (she's three weeks ahead in everything but Pre-Calc) and when that's done, she checks her MySpace page. She hasn't updated in weeks (there's been too much going on to even bother) and is surprised to see her last video has over a hundred comments. Most of them are really _awful_ and center around the theme that she's a slut and a whore. The nicest one is from Santana, posted shortly after Burt's hospital stay. It's pretty simple, '_I'd like to hear that live,'_ and is followed by her bitching out the people who posted before her. She reminds them that she's _Santana Lopez_ and she can _end them_ if they don't shut the fuck up.

No one dares say anything bad after that and Rachel blames the little flutter in her stomach on the fact that people don't defend her very often. Well, at least not in front of other people. She wonders why Santana didn't say anything and decides not to bring it up either; just a short and sweet, '_Maybe I will,'_ followed by a smiley face. It's hard, but, Rachel figures if Santana isn't making a big deal about it then she shouldn't either. Dr. Robinson would be proud that she's trying to balance her impulses with her friends' sensibilities (delicate and otherwise).

Rachel falls asleep listening to herself singing _Many the Miles_ on repeat, her hand clutching her phone, wishing that Noah would give some indication that he was still alive. Saturday is the longest they've gone without communicating since Jew Group started. It takes all the self control she has to keep from crying.

* * *

The first time she tells Noah she loves him is the summer when they're seven.

They've spent the summer building blanket forts in her living room, digging for worms in his backyard (although she always makes him put them back), and running around half naked in the sprinklers the way only little kids can get away with. It's hot and miserable (early August in Lima) the day they decide to walk to the 7-Eleven to get a slushy.

It isn't until later (much later) that she figures out why their parents are so upset. _Nothing_ happens; they walk there, get their slushies, and walk back with a brain freeze or two between them. There are no strangers with candy, no thunderstorms, and no packs of half-starved wild dogs. They don't end up the subject of a _Lifetime Original Movie_ but that doesn't mean they couldn't have. His mom is waiting with her dads when they finally make it back to her house. Rachel starts crying almost immediately, _knowing_ that they're in a lot of trouble. There's a whole lot of Jewish mother guilt being thrown around but her dad isn't about to be upstaged and starts in with his own tirade of '_How do you think we'd feel if you died? Do you think we'd ever get over that?_'

Noah just stands there, resigned, occasionally sipping his slushy as if he's heard this a hundred times. He doesn't spring into action until her daddy grabs her wrist and pulls her over to swat her. Her dads _never_ spank her and it starts a fresh wave of tears, this time with an edge of hysteria. Noah's got his chest puffed up and his fists raised, ready to lash out and hit (never mind that it would get him into even more trouble). He gets up in her daddy's face and yells at him for daring to hit _his Rachel_.

Everything pretty much stops right there. Her daddy is too busy laughing to spank her and her dad and his mom are too busy melting to do anything at all. Eventually, when everybody calms down, they get an hour long lecture about the dangers of running off when they're seven years old and not nearly as tough as they think they are. Rachel apologizes until she starts crying again and Noah holds her hand and glares at her daddy. When they're finally left alone, he makes her wash her face in the kitchen sink (she can't quite reach so she stands on his back) and gives her the rest of his melted slushy.

Before he leaves with his mom, she gives him a hug and tells him she loves him. At the time she means '_Thank you_,' not marriage and babies and forever. It still takes him two years to say it back. His arm is in traction and her head is resting on his stomach while they watch _General Hospital_ on the tiny hospital television waiting for her daddy and his mom to get back from the police station. They don't stop exchanging _I Love Yous_ until they're twelve and sixth grade pisses all over them.

Even in her dreams, Rachel wonders if she should have just kept that little declaration to herself and not spilled it all over her front porch steps a second time. Saying it in glee, to Finn as an excuse for _not _loving _him_, is a lot different than telling Noah after kissing him goodbye on their first date.

To say she doesn't sleep well is a huge understatement.

* * *

She doesn't expect him to come pick her up to go to Jew Group on Sunday, but she goes through the motions anyway. She spends a half hour on the elliptical, takes a shower, gets dressed, and eats breakfast with her dads (the one meal they're never too busy to make) without looking at her phone once. Rachel doesn't know why he's being such a big _douchetard_ (it's not like that _I love you_ was breaking news) but she knows that if she calls him on it, it's just going to make it worse.

He's not big on words and if she pushes him before he's ready, he'll just end up saying something stupid that he doesn't mean. Unlike with Finn, she's secure enough to let it go (to a point). Mostly she doesn't want to have to deal with the insecure hurt that will come with the stupid things he'll say.

Her dads know that something's up but they don't say anything to her. They content themselves with having a silent conversation over the top of her head while she munches on vegan bacon and forces herself to drink the rest of her orange juice. The whispers start as soon as she leaves the dining room and instead of telling them to stay out of her personal life, Rachel retreats to the living room and curls up into a ball on the couch. TCM is running a Judy Garland marathon but even _Easter Parade_ isn't enough to pull her out of her bad mood.

She considers calling Santana and bribing her with lunch at Breadsticks but shelves that idea when she realizes she doesn't really want to be social (or pay for Santana's carb loading). Eventually her dads come in to sit with her in the living room and she pretends to be asleep so they don't ask her any questions or try to give her advice. Rachel _loves_ her dads but she doesn't want a mini-lecture about how she should give Noah the benefit of the doubt. She _knows_ she should, especially after all they've been through, but that doesn't mean she isn't a teenage girl with irrational thoughts and fears.

She doesn't hear the knock at first and she's so caught up in her napping _performance_ that her dad gets to the door before she does. Rachel figures that, when she gets there, he'll be standing in the doorway, reading Noah the riot act for giving his _baby girl_ the silent treatment. Instead, he's stooped over, with a comforting hand on her (idiot) boyfriend's shoulder, talking in the soft, rumbling tones that can only mean he's giving Noah advice. She feels a flash of betrayal (her dad's supposed to be the _tough one_ who gives Noah a hard time) but it's quickly drowned out with worry when she gets a good look at Noah.

He looks like he's been on a three day bender.

Rachel stands in the doorway until her dad leaves, contemplating whether or not she should even let him drive. Noah _finally _looks up at her. It takes him a couple of tries; he mumbles and breaks out into a string of obscenities, before he finally finds the words to talk to her.

"Look, can we not go to Jew Group today? I don't want to talk about this shit in front of everyone."

There isn't anything else she can do but nod her assent, so, she clambers up into his truck and slides across the bucket seat until their thighs are touching. It takes a long time to drive out to the Twin Lake Reservoir.

* * *

_No one_ goes to Twin Lake to make out. It's too close to the high school (_too obvious_) and too heavily patrolled by the Lima Police Department to make it worth anyone's while. Plus, it's usually crawling with people during the summer. In late October, however, it's nearly deserted and Noah easily finds an empty parking lot.

They don't say anything to each other. He fiddles with the radio, finally settling on an alt rock station, and Rachel slides down in the seat until she's resting her head in his lap and her knees are pulled up to her chest. It _feels_ like a breakup, which doesn't make _any sense_ all things considered. As the minutes tick by, Rachel feels more and more like she should sit up and beat the shit out of Noah. She's tired of being worried (that he's dead in a ditch) and upset (because he's ignoring her), so she settles on mad because at least that way she can regain control of the situation.

He says, "Look, I love you," at the same time she says, "You're a fucking asshole."

"God, Rachel, this is fucking ridiculous."

She should scold him (and herself) for throwing around f-bombs but she's too busy agreeing with him. It _is _ridiculous. They shouldn't have to go through this stupid teenage bullshit; they should be beyond that. _Should_ being the key word. Since it's her and Noah, it only makes since that they would manage to screw a simple declaration of love up.

"Look," Noah lifts her up by her shoulders until she's sitting up beside him and then cups her face in his hands, "I've been a little in love with you since I was twelve years old. And then I went and fucked _everything up_ by letting you walk away because it was easier for _me_." She's a little surprised, to be honest. He's never been good with words and neither one of them has been good about talking about what happened _before_. "If you don't want me, you need to tell me now."

His statement shocks her down to her toes, if _she _doesn't want _him_. It doesn't make any sense until she really thinks about it; she was the first to walk away, she kept her distance when he kept trying to catch her attention, and she did everything in her power to keep them from getting back on track (throwing herself at his best friend, "dating" him to make his best friend jealous, dating his best friend). He might be the established bad ass and heart breaker at McKinley, but she's done more than enough to rake him over the coals.

"I'm _always_ going to want you, Noah. _Always_." She smiles and turns her head to kiss his palm. "I was _so scared_ you were going to leave me." Rachel's always been scared he's going to leave her, maybe that's why she keeps leaving him first; it's easier that way. "Just don't break my heart, okay?"

He laughs at her, long and hard, and then slides her down so that he's lying on top of her on the seat. It's _not_ comfortable but she's not going to complain when he's got her leg hooked over his hip and his hands are in her hair. "You're _crazy_ and I _love you_ for it." He kisses her then, biting her bottom lip until she gasps, and then runs his tongue along hers until she arches up against him. There's no daddy to interrupt them, no dad to come bounding out of the house with a baseball bat, and only the faint thought that the police _might_ be patrolling.

Rachel really doesn't want her first time to be in his truck, but, he's so hard and hot against her that she can't quite remember why she doesn't. And when Noah untangles his hands out of her hair and slides them down her body, any protest she previously had flew out the window.

The pads of his fingers are rough and callused from years of playing guitar and she can feel them through the thin lace of her bra when he slides his hands up her shirt. He doesn't take off her shirt, just brings his thumbs up under her underwire and brushes them along the underside of her breasts. He smiles against her neck when she whimpers and groans when she turns her head and bites his neck.

Eventually they end up bunched up in the cab of his truck. She's squashed against the passenger door, her head bumping up against it when he hooks his thumbs in the waistband of her panties and slides them off with her pants. She doesn't even know how he _fits_, bent in such a way that he can get his head between her thighs. It's not sex (not really), so Rachel just moans when he brings the flat of his tongue across her clit.

"Oh God, _baby_, I fucking _love_ you." She jerks up at his words and feels her chest flush and heat pool between her thighs. She's wound so tight that his _voice _is _almost _enough to make her come.

Noah digs his thumbs into her thighs, pushing her legs further apart, before setting a steady rhythm with his tongue. His breath is hot against her slick skin and she shivers when he scrapes his teeth lightly against her clit. "_Noah_," her voice breaks on that simple word and she can't quite find the words to continue. She arches up against him and he looks up at her with a wicked smirk on his face.

"Come on, _baby_, tell me what you _want_."

"_Please_," she's not sure where the whine comes from, "I need, I need…I _need _more."

He probably wants her to beg, tell him exactly what she wants, but she just can't. She nearly sobs in relief when he slips one finger, and then another, inside of her and crooks them so he's running them over that small patch of roughened skin. It doesn't take long before she's shaking, her hips canting up. She wants _more_, she wants him to push _harder_, but he just keeps up his slow and steady pace.

"_No-uh…please, please, please…"_

He kisses her, hard and brutal in sharp contrast to what he's doing inside of her, and she explodes, moaning into his mouth. There's a moment when everything's fuzzy and Rachel can't quite seem to catch her breath. The next moment she's gathering up all her courage to slide her hand down his stomach and over the bulge in his jeans. She doesn't really know what she's doing (Jesse just wanted to skip to sex and Finn never got past second base) when she fumbles with the button on his jeans and tugs down his zipper.

There's a part of her that wants to _completely _return the favor but that's overruled by the voice in her head reminding her that they're in public and she's half naked and she _really _doesn't want to have that conversation with their parents. Instead, she wiggles his pants down just enough (he's not wearing boxers) that his cock springs free.

"Tell me what _you _want," she whispers the words, unsure of herself for the first time since he started taking off her pants. She can't really see what she's doing but that doesn't stop her from wrapping her hand around him. He's smooth and hard and _perfect_ in her hand and she wishes they had more time for her to explore him.

"_Baby_, please, you have got to do _something…_"

Rachel loves the little noises he makes in his throat when she runs her hand up and down his length. She knows it's no more intentional than the look of intense concentration on her face (her eyes half crossed and her tongue sticking out of her mouth). He's wet when she rubs her thumb over the top of him and she can't help but grin at the way he thrusts into her hand when she tightens her grip.

This, this having all the power thing, is almost better than him giving her an orgasm. _Almost_.

She bites Noah's neck, just underneath his ear, and sucks hard as she pumps her hand up and down. He's not complaining (or talking for that matter) and she takes that as a sign she's not doing anything wrong. She feels him twitch in her hand and hears him gasp out, _'Oh God,' _before he takes her head in his hands and kisses her like he's trying to crawl into her mouth. It takes her a minute before she realizes that her hand is wet and sticky.

Noah looks dazed, all traces of green and gold lost in his dark eyes, and a giggle rises in Rachel's throat. If one hand wasn't covered in _Noah_ and the other wasn't trapped under his body, she'd clap them both over her mouth to contain the laughter. Instead, she leans in and presses her face hard against her boyfriend's shoulder.

"Oh, _babe_, don't cry. It's okay, we'll clean up and you'll be fine." It shouldn't but, for some reason, his concern just makes her shake harder from contained laughter. "Hey," he rises up just enough to sit up and cup her chin in his hand, "are you _laughing_?"

Rachel tries to shake her head no, but, her laughter finally bubbles up past her lips. She holds her hand up away from her body (and his) as he straightens up in the seat. "I'm so…sor…_sorry_, Noah. It was just…so…_amazing." _When the tension clears from his face (did he seriously think she was laughing at _him_), she hands him his pants with her clean hand and starts looking for her purse; taking a moment to contain herself.

"A lot of that was new territory for me, okay?" He just nods while she wipes herself off with a baby wipe and sets it gingerly on the dash while she shimmies back into her underwear. They really shouldn't be having this conversation _now_, but, they've done everything else out of order so it's not like it's any surprise.

"You mean you and St. Douche…"

"…didn't do a lot of things. He got me off a couple of times but never with his..._mouth_," she knows she beet red and focuses on sliding her pants up her hips without rising up too much in the truck. "He was more worried about the…_main event_…"

Noah ruffles her hair and swoops down to plant a kiss on her temple. "That's because he was a _douchebag_, Rach." She buckles up while he puts his truck in reverse and almost panics until he slumps down so he can bump his shoulder with hers. "Ma's at the hospital and Hannah's at a friend's house. We need a shower and you need to wash your clothes…"

"Okay…" It feels weird that they're acting so _normal_ when it feels like her world has shifted on its axis. Sure, people have sex (or fool around or whatever they just did) all the time and go on to do normal things and lead normal lives but she feels like she should _feel_ different or they should be _acting _different.

"Baby, we smell like sex and your t-shirt is a mess. I'm gonna take you home once I've fed you and forced you to watch a couple of hours of mindless TV. You probably broke your brain watching too much Judy this morning."

Rachel just nods, because a shower does sound _really_ good, and puts her hand on his knee. Maybe the world didn't shift, but, that isn't necessarily a bad thing. So far, all the good parts of their lives have been the little moments; it's always been the big moments that had fucked them over. Besides, the fact that he _knows_ she spent her morning watching the Judy Garland marathon makes her melt a little inside.

He loves her and she loves him and that's all that really matters.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Finally, something I'm happy with! I for one am glad that they've finally gotten things out in the open. And no, you didn't miss Rachel telling Puck she loved him last chapter; I added to this chapter just to be sneaky (hopefully it didn't fall flat). RHGS should be up next, for real. So, while the lack of orgasm has officially come to an end…our favorite couple is still messing around in public (maybe they'll eventually find somewhere private to have their sexy times).


	12. Run Right to the Edge with You

**Author's Note: **It has been entirely too long since I've updated. Since Chapter 10 was posted, the company I worked for liquidated, I got married, the house temporarily turned into a hotel (we had a lot of visitors), I became unemployed, and, most recently, the hubs and I just got back from our two week vacation on the mainland. Despite all of the time I've had on my hands since September, I've found it really hard to write. Unlike some authors, I only have a rough mental sketch when I start writing a story; when the inspiration dries up, I don't have anything substantial to fall back on to keep writing. I have every intention of finishing this story (and _Sing Me Home_); I just may take a roundabout way of getting there.

Hopefully, this chapter makes up for the long wait. Originally, it was going to be a fun, drama-free piece. Easily written, quickly posted, and onto the next thing. Nothing about this chapter went the way I had hoped it would. I realized, several months ago, that things in the _In Treatment-_verse hadn't resolved as neatly as I had planned. Anyway, thanks for not giving up on me and I hope you enjoy!

**In Treatment**

_**Chapter 11: Run Right to the Edge with You**_

* * *

_You can't run away from trouble. There ain't no place that far._

_**Uncle Remus**_

* * *

The week (almost) ends in the principal's office. Rachel's not sure if it's a metaphor or irony or just the cherry on the top of a truly ridiculous week. To be fair, it really, truly doesn't matter.

Rachel hates Principal Figgins' office.

Good girls don't get called into the principal's office. Good girls accept awards at the end of year honors assemblies. Good girls don't make it past the secretary's desk; they pass along papers or messages or receive whatever it is they need to receive but they _do not_ get _called_ _into_ the principal's office.

Finn is sitting on the other side of the office, an ice pack held to his face. Coach Sylvester is standing in the corner, a small smirk playing over her otherwise impassive features. Mr. Shuester looks like he wants to puke. Principal Figgins is sitting behind his desk, hands folded, the picture of calm and composure (except for the little muscle that's jumping beneath his left eye). Rachel's pretty sure Noah's growling beside her, a low steady sound that is eerily reminiscent of a German shepherd, but she's too busy listening to the thoughts swirling around in her head to really notice.

And then, just as the principal is about to break the silence, Rachel bursts into tears.

* * *

Honestly, Rachel can't understand what she used to see in Will Shuester. Yes, he's handsome and well built and sings well enough to have a chance on Broadway. However, he's also self absorbed (Rachel should know the signs), a terrible teacher, a worse choir director, and completely ignorant about how the real world works. A year ago, she found his earnestness endearing. Now, she just wants to punch him in the face.

It's not like she's _blind_ or _deaf _or _stupid_. Miss Pillsbury is dating Dr. Howell (the hot dentist) and the evidence of that dating is all over campus. Rachel's pretty sure that _normal _faculty members don't flaunt their personal lives so blatantly but Miss Pillsbury and her boyfriend are _absolutely fucking everywhere_. She's not sure if it's because the hot dentist is marking his territory or because Miss Pillsbury is trying to prove to Mr. Shue that she's over him or because the people working at McKinley are all just that fucked up but Rachel doesn't blame Mr. Shue for going a little crazy.

She _does_, however, blame him for taking his crazy out on the glee club.

Halloween is less than a week away and Rachel's looking forward to dressing up to hand out candy to the neighborhood kids. Her dads go all out for Halloween (there's a fucking spook house in her backyard) and it's the one holiday when Lima forgets that Hiram and Leroy are the _weird queer couple_ and descend upon the Berry residence for something other than nailing patio furniture to the roof or throwing pee balloons at the front door. She's already been to the RHPS showing in Dayton twice, once with her dads and once with Noah, Kurt, and (surprisingly) Mercedes.

Considering all the idiotic things Mr. Shue has done (usually in the name of love or teamwork or something else achingly idyllic), Rachel shouldn't be surprised. She can't help but cringe when she sees him start to write on the white board (_Rocky Horror Glee Show_) and if she wasn't sitting in Noah's lap, the only thing shielding the group from the obvious tent in his pants, Rachel would be out of the room faster than you could say '_And the award goes to…'_

"You _cannot_ be serious."

The words are out of her mouth before she can stop them. Noah pats her knee, Kurt sucks in a ragged breath behind her, and she can feel several pairs of eyes burning into the back of her head. This is probably one of those moments in time that Dr. Robinson would tell her to back up, take a deep breath, apologize for her outburst, and then explain herself. Of course, Dr. Robinson isn't there and Rachel has no intention of apologizing. This is not time for apologizing; this is time to get shit done.

"Have you lost your mind?" It's a fair question. There's _no way in hell_ that they can modify RHPS to be appropriate for a high school setting in a week. Even worse, there's the whole issue of their _nonexistent budget_ and the fact that's it's _almost November_ and they've made no real progress towards preparing for Sectionals. "As co-captain, I have to protest because this is really horrible timing. Sectionals may be months away, but, we are going to be out three days next month for Thanksgiving Break. Then, we have two and a half weeks off for winter break. This would be a perfect time to do the math and realize we are not exactly swimming in free time. Even if we had the time, our budget is strained enough without dipping down to present a shoddy musical production. So, I repeat, have you lost your mind?"

It's the most she's said in glee in weeks and Mr. Shue looks too shocked to say anything, much less roll his eyes. She's not aware of much besides her heavy breaths rattling around in her chest and Noah's fingers digging into her thighs. Rachel doesn't care what the rest of the club thinks; they can't put on a _quality production_ in less than a week. They might pull of miracles but even for them this is asking too much. If anything it's asking too much of _her_.

And then, as if on cue, Finn opens his big, fat, stupid mouth.

"Oh, come on Rachel. I think it's a really good idea." Of course he thinks it's a good idea. He wouldn't know a good idea if it bit him in the face.

Finn stands up and fixes her with the goofy look that she once, somehow, found adorable. Now Rachel just finds it annoying, especially when the quarterback and Mr. Shuester share some nonverbal communication that makes her stomach jumps up in her throat. Nothing good can come of this; she doesn't need ESP to tell her that.

"Rachel, I think we all understand where you're coming from," _obviously _Mr. Shue doesn't understand where she's coming from or he wouldn't be suggesting this, "but, this isn't a _gleeocracy_. We really should take a vote." They _really shouldn't_, especially when she knows exactly how the vote is going to go. Voting in glee club always has and always will be a popularity contest.

Quinn's the first one to raise her hand in support and Sam, looking confused and a little disgruntled, follows her lead. It isn't long before (almost) everyone else follows suite. Typical. Rachel keeps her hands in her lap and Noah keeps his hands on her thighs (although she's pretty sure he's glaring at Finn too). Santana grumbles somewhere behind her, unsuccessfully trying to convince Brittany to put her hand down, and Kurt pats her shoulder and tells her he wholeheartedly agrees with her.

When the vote has been tallied up, nine against four, Mr. Shue claps his hands together and bounces on the balls of his feet excitedly. He then promptly hands the role of Janet over to her. There's no guilt or eye rolling or even a mention of auditioning. Even though she just shot down his idea with extreme honesty and brutality and she's still glaring at him like it will set his overstyled hair on fire, he just smiles and hands over the sheet music like he doesn't (probably) maybe hate her guts. It's like the early days when Mr. Ryerson was still on the front page of the Lima Herald and Rachel bulldozed over Mr. Shue (and the glee club) without a by-your-leave. That funny feeling in her stomach is now tap dancing on her spleen.

Still.

She's not the kind of person to turn down a lead role. She tries, she really does, but the words stick in her throat. It may just be _Janet_ but it's a leading role and those are really important when it comes time to fill out college applications. Turning down a lead goes against the very core of what makes her a person. So, Rachel tries to tune out all the bad vibes while Finn and Mr. Shue share some more non-verbal communication, pats Noah on the leg, and prays that they won't completely embarrass themselves at the end of the week. Obviously _nothing_ good is going to come of this.

* * *

It doesn't take long for the fragile peace she has with Mercedes to come tumbling down.

"What exactly is your damage?"

Mercedes corners Rachel as she's coming out of Chemistry. Noah is in another wing, Kurt and Tina are nowhere to be seen, and Santana is probably running around with Brittany (they're on better terms now with Artie out of the way).

"Excuse me?"

There isn't anywhere to run and no one to save her, so, Rachel tries to put on a brave face. When facing off with another diva, sass is important. You don't cringe or back down. You especially don't turn your back on said diva. It's a good way to get yourself shanked with sheet music from _Cats_.

"You heard me, _Rachel_, what is your damage? Last year you would have jumped at this chance. Shue didn't even _pretend _to make you work for this and you still can't suck it up? Newsflash, but, you don't always have to get your way."

Rachel stares at Mercedesand tries to pick her jaw from off the floor. All she's done for the last couple of weeks is _suck it up_. Since her break up with Finn, she's been overlooked for every single solo. Instead of blowing up and storming out (and possibly threatening Mr. Shue with a lawsuit for threatening her future career with his obvious favoritism), Rachel's helped Tina with her range and Kurt with his breath control. She even gave Quinn some tips on her phrasing, to help her from being so pitchy, even though it killed a piece of her to do so.

"Even if Finn and I were still together, I would still think this is a bad idea." Truth be told, the weird vibes are only her second concern. "We have four days to put together a performance worthy of ticket sales. _Four days_ to put together new material in a responsibly coherent manner so that we don't embarrass ourselves. I know you all think that it's easy to put a performance together but, maybe, just maybe, you'll notice that when we put shit together on the fly, we only win against deaf kids and juvenile delinquents."

After all, it's _almost November _and they could be finalizing a set list (or three) and drilling choreography and not having to worry about pulling something out of their asses a couple of weeks after winter break. Considering how devastated they all were last year at the thought of club breaking up and how they need a win at Regionals to secure funding for another year, Rachel thinks they might be a little more concerned with the upcoming competitions and less concerned with fun times and Mr. Shue's love life.

With the way Mercedes just stares at her, it's obvious that the truth that she's _sharing_ is falling on deaf ears. Which figures, considering Mercedes believes an award-winning performance consists of standing in one spot and belting out one note until her throat is raw.

"Look, this isn't some elementary school production. There are lines to memorize, blocking to learn, and choreography to rehearse. I'd be onboard if this had come up a month ago. I'd be ecstatic if it had come up two months ago. If I wasn't _sucking it up_, I'd be sitting this one out in silent protest."

As it is, they _need_ her if this is going to be anything but a fucking disaster.

* * *

On Tuesday, they all cram onto the handicap accessible bus and head down to Columbus. "All" meaning the glee club, Mr. Shue, Miss Pillsbury, Miss Pillsbury's (hot) dentist boyfriend, and Quinn's mom. Rachel lays her head on Noah's shoulder, cuddles into his side, and intends to be asleep before someone (most likely Dr. Howell) encourages them to sing campfire songs.

Noah's having none of that.

"This isn't a good idea."

"That's a little vague." After all, there are _a lot_ of terrible ideas floating around. Like the part where Rachel and Finn stand on stage half naked in front of the peers that taunt them on a regular basis. Or how Dr. Howell keeps petitioning Mr. Shue to let him play Dr. Frank-N-Furter (because Kurt turned him down and Mike's parents refused to sign his permission form) even though it's creepy considering the character is _inappropriate_ with most of the cast and the cast consists entirely of teenagers. And those are just the top two; the other, approximately fifty million, ideas don't even bear mentioning.

"None of this is a good idea, Rach. You know, especially the part where you and Hudson limp off into the sunset together."

There really isn't anything to say to that. Actually, that's a lie. There are too many things to say to that. Rachel just cuddles into Noah's chest, afraid the first words out of her mouth are going to have something to do with all of the people she will potentially "kiss," "date," or "fuck" on stage. Because, honestly, that's years down the line, with costars she'll have had no previous romantic connection with (God willing), and it's nothing that she needs to throw in Noah's face considering, for all intents and purposes, he's kind of her rebound relationship.

Except that he's not. After all, she loved him _first_ and because she wasn't exactly heartbroken over Finn in the first place. At least not since the last time when he tossed her aside for the promise of _SantanaandBrittany_ and effectively pushed her into Jesse's arms, which ended up being a complete and total disaster.

So, she stretches up and tugs Noah's earlobe between her teeth before whispering into his ear. "I'm not limping off into the sunset with anyone but _you_, okay? And we won't be limping; we're going to be flying out first class with a one-way ticket to NYC." The way he beams at her makes Rachel (temporarily) forget the feeling of dread growing in her stomach. Mr. Robinson would want her to think positively. Hopefully it's an ulcer, not a tumor. That's about as positive as she's going to get until this whole mess is over and done with.

By the time they make it to the second hand costume shop that smells like rejection and Mr. Ryerson's tears (thanks Brittany), Dr. Howell has busted out in song no less than ten times. Ms. Fabray looks like she could use a drink, Santana looks like she could kill someone, and everyone else looks a little shell shocked. It's the perfect time (honestly, she couldn't have planned it better) for Rachel to sneak up beside Mr. Shue and inform him, using a hundred words or less, that she (and Finn) _will not_ be running around stage half naked at any point in the show. The choir director just nods, truthfully he's probably more concerned with getting Artie safely off the bus than with what she's saying, but Rachel gets him to shake on full (opaque) slips and t-shirts and the quick distribution of lab coats in front of an audience.

That is all that matters.

Well, it's all that matters until she comes about of the dressing room in her Janet dress, feeling like an escapee from an FLDS compound, and catches Sam staring at himself in a full length mirror in the back of the shop. He's wearing short (_short_) gold shorts and not much else and even though his body looks like it's sculpted from marble, he looks like the saddest person in the world.

"What's wrong?"

He startles and nearly trips over a coat rack, before turning around and staring at her with equal parts mistrust and uncertainty.

"Shouldn't you be worrying about Puckerman over there? He looks like he's about to rip Mr. Shuester a new one." Rachel spares a quick glance in Noah's direction, keeping Sam in her peripheral vision least he run off while she's distracted, and then turns her back on the scene in the front of the shop. It looks mostly under control and no one's crying yet, so, it's probably nothing to worry about.

"No matter what Quinn has told you about me, I'm really not a terrible person." He doesn't look convinced, but, Rachel's a little worried that Quinn's going to come popping up at any moment (since her name has been invoked) and she doesn't need to deal with _that _on top of everything else in her life.

"Look, I'm not going to try to seduce you. You just looked sad and we're teammates and I wanted to see if there was anything I could do to help." Contrary to popular belief, she's not a completely selfish, self-absorbed bitch.

"It's just…walking around in a pair of hot pants that would make Colossus proud really isn't going to do wonders for my reputation. Especially if I keep swiping Doritos off of Hudson's tray when he isn't looking. I mean, look at this, I'm pretty sure you can see the fat growing in this light."

At this point, Rachel knows she's got a lot of options. The easiest would be to turn, walk away, and inform Miss Pillsbury that she should drop a couple of pamphlets about body image in Sam's locker. The second easiest would be to laugh it off, tell Sam he doesn't have anything to worry about, and find Noah as quickly as possible before Quinn finds her and tries to rip out her hair. In between the second option and the last, there's probably about ten others she could settle on that wouldn't involve her baring her soul to the (almost stranger) boy who Quinn Fabray has her sights on (it might be the other way around but, when Quinn's involved, it doesn't matter).

Instead, Rachel rummages around in her purse, pulls out her wallet, and after some careful maneuvering, thrusts a school photo in Sam's hands.

"Last year, when it felt like the whole school hated me, I used to run around the track until I threw up. I didn't _mean_ to throw up. It just happened once and I figured that must be what a really good workout feels like, so, I kept doing it." The confession makes her intestines knot up. She hasn't told _anyone_; not her dads, not Noah, not even Dr. Robinson. "I couldn't change the fact that I'm short or have small breasts or a big nose, but, I figured if I could run off that last bit of baby fat, then maybe _something_ would be easier for me."

At the time, the only people she considered friends were her _dads_ and she was convinced they were required by _law_ to like her. Finn wanted her because Jesse had her and Noah might not hate her, but, he had too many of his own problems to get involved in hers. She was starting to realize Jesse might not care about her as much as he said she did. Her mother, the woman she'd waited her whole life to meet, was too wrapped up in thoughts of an imaginary relationship with an imaginary baby to see that her _real daughter_ really did need her. The only things she really had was glee club and they were pretty much just tolerating her for her voice.

It was the year that beat out sixth grade for the worst year ever.

Sam stares at her picture for a long time like he's examining a bug or (more likely) a limited edition comic book.

"It's not the same. We're _not_ the same." He must notice the look in her eye, the crestfallen one that precedes a total mental shut down, because he grabs her arm before she can pull away. "I'm dealing with enough in my life that I don't want to worry about getting laughed off stage for pairing stomach rolls with gold hot pants. I _need_ this year not to suck, okay. If it means dropping out of this musical to avoid slushy facials and Quinn scratching out your eyes and chopping off my balls, then I'm going to do it. It's not like it's a big deal, Mr. Shuester already volunteered to take my place."

If that, that right there, doesn't scream really awful, really terrible idea, then Rachel doesn't know what will. She knows she's got to shut that idea down before it gains any more traction.

"You do realize that if you force me to strut around stage with our choir director, _my boyfriend_ is going to make you hate your life. Noah's a lot more creative than he gets credit for; I'm sure he can think of something worse than slushies to the face or chopped off testicles." Sam gulps and Rachel feels a little guilty, but, she's never been above blackmail; especially the emotional kind. _Especially_ when it means preserving her already fragile hold on reality. "Look, you can find that kind of gold fabric in the back of any Wal-Mart," she knows because it's her favorite crafting material, "if you go up to Ms. Fabray and beg her to protect your modesty, I have no doubt that she'll bust out a respectable tank top and board shorts in record time. _And_ you'll score points when it comes to wooing her daughter."

None of this is a lie and she doesn't have a problem with doing Quinn a solid if it means not having to ask Mr. Shuester to touch her in front of Noah, her dads, and God.

"And Mr. Shuester won't get mad?"

"Look, Sam, if he gets mad because one of his _young male students _is no longer prancing around in the equivalent of gold boxer briefs, I'll tactfully remind him what happened to the last glee club director."

At Sam's blank look, Rachel sighs and pats him on the shoulder. "Mr. Ryerson got _fired_ for getting up close and personal with the former male lead. Between you and I, I may have possibly had something to do with that. _Maybe_. Nothing you could prove in a court of law. I would know, my daddy's a lawyer."

"Okay, so, I'm going to go find Quinn's mom and see what she can do for me."

They share this look, when he passes back her picture, that makes her think that maybe the possible threat of bodily harm was worth the chat. Then, just like that, the moment's over and she's marching up to the front of the store where Noah is glaring daggers at Finn and everyone (besides Santana and Brittany) is looking really uncomfortable.

It takes the _entire_ bus ride back to Lima before Mr. Shue allows Noah to take up the role of Dr. Frank-N-Furter. Kurt looks smug, Mercedes looks wounded, and Finn looks pissed off, but, on the plus side, no one says a damn word about Sam's costume change when they show up to rehearsal Wednesday afternoon.

* * *

There are three people in New Directions who have theater experience and it shows. Ignoring _Cabaret_, Rachel has been participating in Community Theater and acting workshops since she was six years old. Kurt was the lead in Mr. Ryerson's summer play (which wasn't nearly as horrible as she thought it would be) and Noah, driven by the promise of sugar cookies and tears, participated in every JCC performance with her in elementary school. It means that Wednesday rehearsals are a complete and total cluster fuck.

The _RHGS_ premieres Friday night and even getting excused half the day on Friday to rehearse, they still don't have a lot of time to put things together. Although the stage is littered with colored blocking cues and Mr. Shue is literally walking them through _every single scene_, the simple progression from cue to cue is still too much for Finn. No surprising, despite being so on board to put the show together, the majority of the cast don't have their (meager) lines memorized and the cue cards Miss Pillsbury is holding up are more of a hindrance than a help. About the only thing they mostly have down is the Time Warp and Mercedes can barely get through that without being sick.

It's a mess and Rachel has to fight the urge to yell, '_I told you so_.'

Rehearsals run an hour late and Rachel is ready to start ripping Noah's clothes off in the parking lot by the time they finally make it out to his car. Santana's peeping tom threat is the only thing that forces Rachel to keep her hands in her lap on the ride from the school to the Puckerman household. Ava's working nights and Hannah's at a friend's house, so there's nothing stopping her from jumping her boyfriend in the living room.

So she does.

Her lips attack his neck as the fingers of one hand tangle up into his Mohawk and the fingers from the other start trying to undo his belt buckle. It's not really polite, dropping down to your knees to deep throat your boyfriend where _anyone_ could walk in to see, but, Rachel's been past polite since noon (when Finn suggested for the first of fifty times that they hold hands to practice for the show). She's got Noah's pants around his knees and her fingers hooked into the waistband of his boxers when he catches her chin in his hand and forces her eyes to meet his.

"Rach, baby, you've got to slow down a minute."

If it were anyone else, it probably wouldn't bother her. In fact, she'd probably think he was being sweet. However, this is Noah "Puck" Puckerman. This is the same guy who knocked up his best friend's girlfriend, who fucked April Rhodes in the boys' locker room, and who supplemented his pool business with prostitution.

"Obviously there's something wrong if you don't want to be balls deep in my mouth right now."

Noah groans and lets her chin go to pull his pants back up and refasten his belt. He's still hard, which is the only thing keeping her from bursting into tears, when he bends down to lift her up by her armpits and set her on the arm of the couch. Even so, tears well up in her eyes anyway and she buries her face in his shirt.

"Babe, come on, just hear me out." She shakes her head back and forth and wonders where they went wrong that he's the one who wants to talk and she just wants to drown her frustrations in sex. "_Rachel_, I just spent three hours watching you prance around the stage alternating between being in love with your ex-boyfriend and sexing up Quinn's newest victim."

"I wasn't…"

Rachel gets two words out and then Noah's lips are slanting over hers, his tongue is in her mouth, and his fingers have worked up under her skirt and around her panties and into her dripping wet center. She clenches around him once, twice, and then he's slipping out of her, pulling away completely, and wiping his fingers on the back on his pants.

"I _can't_ do that with you if I think there's even a chance you're getting wet because Finn's trying to put a ring on it."

She _should _reward her boyfriend for being articulate but she's so out of her mind with _wanting Noah_ that what Rachel _should do_ and what she _wants to do_ are two completely and totally different things. If she wanted Finn, she would have let him flip her skirt up about the time that the mystical grilled cheese made its appearance. If she wanted Sam, all she'd probably have to do is learn a couple of sex words in Nav'i and he'd be putty in her hands. It should be pretty obvious to everyone, _especially Noah_, that she doesn't want anyone but him.

"Do you think I'm stupid? Do you think I don't see what they're trying to do? Mr. Shue decides to bring _Rocky Horror _to McKinley at the same time Miss Pillsbury is suddenly getting hot and bothered by alien transvestites and feather boas. And, if that wasn't enough, Santana dropping Finn to link pinkies with Brittany has _nothing _to do with his _badly veiled attempt_ to pursue the girl who broke his heart."

Noah looks about as uncomfortable as Rachel feels and it just takes a quick glance down to confirm that the mood has effectively been killed.

"I haven't had a solo in weeks and suddenly I'm being handed the lead in the musical I shot down without a second thought. Yeah, obviously there's nothing weird going on." She smoothes her hands down his arms, marveling at how small his biceps make her hands look, and for the first time in her life wishes they could have fooled around first and talked about their feelings second. "I don't want Finn and I don't want Sam and if you think that me wanting _your dick _in _my mouth_ has anything to do with anyone but me wanting you, then you should probably come book an appointment with Dr. Robinson as soon as humanly possible."

"Babe…"

"I just…can you just take me home? If we keep going, I'm going to go to bed angry at you and I really, _really _don't want to do that."

Within fifteen minutes, Rachel's locked herself in her room and is on the phone, crying her eyes out to Santana. It's obvious she's entered into some bizarre alternate reality and she just hopes that she can get through the performance and the rest of the week without killing someone.

At this point, it's going to be a close call.

* * *

Rachel gets through Thursday by pretending that everything is fine.

She kisses Noah when he picks her up in the morning and sings along with the radio on their way to school. She tolerates Kurt when he re-ties the scarf around her neck and touches up her makeup. She tunes out Mercedes in English, partners up with Tina in Pre-Calc, and sits on Noah's lap all through lunch. When Finn offers to practice, 'Damn it, Janet,' during free period, she insists that Santana and Kurt come with them. And, when Santana tells her that she and Brittany caught Mr. Shue and Miss Pillsbury (the creepy perv and the weirdo ginger) practicing 'Touch-A, Touch-A, Touch Me" in an empty classroom, she resists the impulse to call Dr. Howell and inform him that her choir director is making the moves on his girlfriend.

It's a really horrible day.

Thursday's rehearsal is even worse than Wednesday's. She (and Kurt) spends twenty minutes arguing with Mr. Shue about why it's extremely inappropriate for him to take over the role of Rocky, even if it is just for one song. Miss Pillsbury and her cue cards are nowhere to be seen, so, scripts are out and blocking is being ignored and even with the very hands on directing, their timing is still horrible. Mike's supposed to be helping with choreography, but, he can't get two words in before someone starts complaining that they shouldn't move on until they get the Time Warp right.

And then Dr. Howell bursts through the stage doors and rehearsal is effectively over.

Rachel grabs her bag, hugs Noah goodbye, and is out the door with Kurt before Dr. Howell gets halfway through his impassioned speech. If she wasn't so busy pretending that everything was okay, she'd probably be putting the finishing touches on her resignation letter from glee.

* * *

Every member of glee club gets pulled out of first period on Friday morning. Mr. Shuester, looking properly ashamed (probably not for any reason on Rachel's long list), informs them that they won't be getting out of class early and that both their Friday and Saturday performances have been cancelled. Neither incompetence nor accusations of seduction were enough to put a stop to _RHGS_; as usual, only Coach Sylvester's insane hate for glee club was enough to stop Mr. Shue in his tracks.

No one looks particularly sad, not even Finn.

Rachel spends the rest of her day dodging everyone in glee. She manages to avoid Kurt, Mercedes, Finn, _and _Sam before Noah brings her streak of success to an end. Her boyfriend boxes her into a corner in an empty science classroom and she can't help her halting breaths when he presses himself hard against her stomach.

"See, I figure, if I were you, I'd already have your skirt up around your waist and your panties around your ankles." Noah's breath is hot against her ear and he feels so good pressed up against her that Rachel doesn't even care that they're in school and that anyone could walk in at any moment. In fact (not that she'd ever admit it) it might just make her hotter. "But, I've got _restraint_, so, I figure that maybe we should talk about shit first."

Honestly, she'd rather lose her virginity in an empty classroom than talk about the horrible week they just had.

"_Noah_, I'm sorry I…"

He threads his fingers through the hair at the nape of her neck before gently placing his forehead on the top of her head. "I'm still not used to being yours, you know? I'm an idiot and I _love_ you and I hate watching Finn pant over you." Noah hugs her tightly and she sinks into him and suddenly Rachel isn't in a hurry to do anything but listen to the sound of his heart beat.

"I _told you_ that I don't want…"

"And I just _told you_ that I'm an _idiot_. I'm barely good enough for you as it is and it's obvious you're being punished because of me and I just…"

"If it gets too bad, we'll just plant weed or fetish porn in Mr. Shuester's desk and let Coach Sylvester do the dirty work, okay?" It will probably be the end of glee club, considering Mr. Shue was the only teacher stupid enough or idealistic enough to take up their cause, but, while therapy with Dr. Robinson has helped immensely, she's _Rachel Berry_ and, when pushed, she pushes back. "But, if you don't kiss me before the bell rings, I just might die."

Rachel thinks she might die if he stops kissing her. He bites down on her lower lip and grips her hips _hard_. He inserts one jean clad leg between her thighs and grinds against her stomach and she thinks (_very briefly_) that if she could put _this_ on her resume, she'd quit glee all together. This is _almost_ better than beating Mercedes out for a solo. _Almost_.

She's so, _so_ close to ripping her mouth away from Noah's and begging him to do _whatever_ he wants to her when she hears a muffled 'What the fuck?' and the sound of squeaky rubber on tile and suddenly Noah's no longer up grinding up against her.

Instead, he's being pressed up against the wall a couple of feet away with Finn's arm pressed into his throat.

"Finn Hudson, what in God's name do you think you're doing?"

Her ex spares her a glance before Noah's struggling forces him to keep all his focus on keeping his (ex) best friend up against the wall. "Seriously? You're practically _fucking_ at school and you're asking me what I'm doing?"

"We broke up! I'm with Noah now! I can do _whatever _I want to with _him_."

"Right, I had to pray to _Grilled Cheesus_ so I could touch your boobs but you let _Puck _do whatever he wants, whenever he wants. I should have known you were just another slut."

She doesn't even realize she's holding a stapler until it has made contact with Finn Hudson's unusually thick head. It isn't until Finn and Noah are rolling around on the floor that she realizes she's yelling (screaming). It doesn't dawn on Rachel that maybe things between her and Finn aren't as settled as she thought they were until Coach Sylvester pulls Noah off of his (former) best friend.

_That's_ how they end up in Principal Figgin's office.

Rachel doesn't mean to start crying. _Really_. She sits there, in the too small room that smells like moth balls and lemon drops, and uses the silent time to put together an award-winning 'get out of jail free' speech. But when the principal opens his mouth to speak, she realizes just how much she doesn't want to be there, and she can't help the strangled sound that bursts out of her throat and the tears that start tracking down her face.

"Oh, this is such _bullshit_."

"Shut it, Hudson, before I finish what I started and beat your face into the floor."

"Finn, Puck, can we please just…"

"…and really, Figgins, it's exactly this kind of idiotic behavior that the glee club espouses…"

"…and I just wanted to apologize and then Finn was there and _he attacked Noah_…I didn't mean to hit him with the stapler and I'm so, so, _so sorry_…"

"…I'm not saying anything without my lawyer, who happens to be _her dad_…"

"…daddy…I just want to talk to my daddy…"

It's the talk of involving a lawyer (even if that lawyer is Hiram Berry) that shuts down everything really quickly. Figgins kicks out the crazy cheerleading coach and Mr. Shue while handing Rachel a tissue. They all escape with a _stern warning_ and the threat of detention if they commit anymore acts of violence. Noah and Rachel manage to sneak past while Mr. Shue and Coach Sylvester are arguing (she hopes Finn doesn't get so lucky) and she's so relieved that the janitor isn't mopping blood up off the floor that she doesn't mind being fifteen minutes late for seventh period. When the final bell rings, it takes Noah all of five seconds to convince her to ditch glee club and use the hours before the drive to Columbus making out in her bedroom.

All they do is make out and it is, no joke, the best damn part of her week.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Well, there you go; I can't wait to hear what you have to say. Although I haven't started to think about Chapter 12, I'll do my best not to keep you waiting another eight months.


End file.
